Cyrille Cromwell and the Man in Black
by neoangel.dj
Summary: A young girl is mysteriously transported into the Shrieking Shack where she discovers the body of a certain man in black. How will she deal with him if he is the most disagreeable person she has had the misfortune of meeting? What happens when the said man finally meets his match? Picks up directly after The Battle of Hogwarts. Canon except for one teensy detail: Snape is alive.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter I**

RIIIIIIIIINNNNNGGGG! The alarm went off. Ten-year-old Cyrille Cromwell groggily reached for it and hit the snooze button for the third time. As she hit the clock, it fell off the table and landed on the floor with a nasty sound.

"Holy crap! What time is it?" she frantically asked as she stood up. She plucked the alarm clock off the floor and tried to make sense of the numbers that the hands were pointing to. "Oh no! I'm going to be late!" she said as she replaced the clock on the table and ran straight to the shower. Five minutes later, she sprinted downstairs fully clothed and ready for school. As she reached the kitchen in record time, she spotted her aunt sipping her morning tea while reading the paper. She looked at the breakfast food longingly but decided against it.

"I'll be off now, Aunt Judith!" she called as she dashed through the door without waiting for any kind of response. Outside, she could feel the warm breeze against her face. She sighed and felt the air once more before she made another sprint for her destination, barely looking at her surroundings as she passed by. She reached her school with barely a minute to spare. As she entered the classroom nearly out of breath, she took a good look around.

Everyone was already seated quietly, although some of her classmates were still idly chatting with each other. Cyrille didn't take much notice of this. Rather, she noticed that there was still no teacher in sight. That was definitely a good sign. So, surveying the room once more, she spotted an empty chair near the back of the room. She quickly positioned herself there and sighed with relief as the teacher entered and made a roll call.

Halfway through her first period, Cyrille suddenly wished she had breakfast first. Her stomach was starting to make its presence known, but now was not the time to dwell on that. She still had fifteen pages to read from her history book. But it was so boring! Before long, her mind was once again wandering. _The weather is awfully nice today. It would be a good day to visit that place again. My safe haven. _She continued to stare at the window, her thoughts running as free as the clouds in the clear blue sky.

"Miss Cromwell!" a booming voice brought her back to reality.

"Er... yes, sir?"

"I presume that you are done reading, as you have the time to stare blankly into space. Perhaps you could share your knowledge with the rest of the class?"

"Well, actually, I was trying to digest what I had just read... sir."

"Yes, clearly. By staring out the window. Now if you are done disturbing the class then I suggest you continue reading. All of you," he said as he turned his back on her. She reddened a bit at the comment then shifted her attention back to the book in front of her.

* * *

_What a day. Well, at least now I can go to the woods. It's the only place where I ever feel safe. _With that thought in mind, she journeyed to the woods.

When she was younger, she used to go there all the time. She went there to escape her problems as well as other people. She went there when she wanted to hide herself away from the world. After all, nobody knew of that place, so there was no danger of being found out.

She went up the stony path and followed it until she neared the end. She found herself looking into a beautiful scenery, much like a painting that had come to life. In front of her was a large body of water that looked strangely inviting. The breeze felt soft and cool against her skin and she felt calmer by just being there. She had spent so many days quietly sitting on the grass, taking in the wonderful moments she had to herself, moments when no one else could reach her. It was like she had found sanctuary in these woods. To a normal teenager, the woods might have spelled danger; but to her, it was the only safe place she had ever known. In fact, the forest held so many fond memories for her. She remembered that she used to watch the sun set from that place. She sat down and stretched her legs in front of her, dropping her school bag beside her. _I love it here. It's always so calm. I wish my life could be this peaceful._

There was sudden movement behind her. She abruptly turned around and for a brief moment, she thought she was no longer alone. But as she searched, her eyes only laid upon a tiny creature. It was a rabbit.

"Hello there. Are you lost?" she asked as she stood up when the rabbit was startled into hiding. When she tried to take a few steps closer, the animal backed up further. "I won't hurt you. It's alright, come here," she said as she crouched on the ground and extended her hand. This made the animal run.

"No, wait! Don't be scared!" she said as she chased the creature's shadow. It was a long chase, but in the end, she lost the rabbit's trail. She looked around and became conscious of her surroundings for the first time since the chase, then abruptly realized that she was lost. _I've never been to this part of the forest before. It doesn't look inviting. Maybe I should turn back. That's right. I'll try to retrace my steps. But where on earth did I come from?_

Just then, she felt a strange lure in one of the farther areas. It was a fact that Cyrille was a bright girl. She knew that she shouldn't have been prancing around mysterious places, especially if she were alone and quite lost in the woods. However, like what all great heroines typically do, she thought better of it. _I'll look, just look. Then, I'll go back. _She went on farther into that direction. She thought she saw a strange creature hiding behind a tree, so she squinted to get a better look at it. There was nothing there, though. Just as she was about to turn back, her foot came into contact with something hard. Before she could react, she felt a strange kick in her senses, then the world around her disappeared.

* * *

She landed hard on her bottom and her head was spinning. She found herself in a strangely cold and damp place. It seemed like the place had not seen the light of day in ages, but soon enough she found her eyes getting used to the darkness. She realized that if she focused enough, she could actually see her surroundings. The moment she was able to discern what the place looked like, she felt danger. She looked around, frantically searching for any sign of life. Her senses were yelling at her to find the nearest exit and flee, but that was not possible. There just weren't any exits around. Her heartbeat increased with every second. _Breathe, Cyrille. Just breathe. You're going to be fine. That's right. Now, think. What should you do in a situation like this? _She figured that sitting around and doing nothing was the worst that she could do.

Making up her mind, she stood up and started walking, trying to familiarize herself with her surroundings. As she rounded the corner, she saw something that made her cringe. Lying in a pool of blood, sprawled helplessly on the floor was a man in black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter II**

Cyrille gasped at the sight in front of her. She suddenly felt like vomiting as the smell of blood was all around her and it made her feel nauseous. It reminded her badly of rust. She turned her attention to the man on the floor. He looked dead, but Cyrille wasn't sure. Then, against her better judgment, she made slow steps to the figure. _Goodness, there's so much blood! This is stupid. I should just leave. He's probably dead anyway. But what if he isn't? Would that be considered as murder? Oh for the love of God! Pull yourself together, Cyrille! Just see if there's any sign of life in him. If he's alive, he's going to need medication. And fast. But if he's dead, then maybe you could just go to the police station or something._

She took a deep breath with her mouth so she doesn't smell the blood. Then, she approached the figure. She put a hand under the man's nose to see if he was still breathing. There was a tiny gush of air, but she wasn't entirely sure if that was the man's breath or just her imagining things because of her nerves. So, she decided that a pulse check should be safer. She put two shaky fingers to the man's wrist, but she couldn't really feel anything but the trembling of her own hands. She took another deep breath and tried to steady herself. Then, for the last time, she checked for a pulse. And there it was. It was faint and barely noticeable, but there it was. Panic settled in.

_Oh my God! He's _actually _alive! I was just trying to ascertain that he was dead so that I wouldn't have anything eating my conscience when I managed to get out of this place. This cannot be happening! But shouldn't I be happy that he's alive? That's right, I should think positive. Relax, Cyrille. You had a first aid seminar for health class last term. Even so, this looks way beyond my capability. But I have to try. I can't just leave him here. Alright, think. The first step is to assess the situation. _She checked for the source of blood and saw two puncture marks on the man's neck. _Crap, it's a snake bite. The poison's probably running inside his bloodstream as I speak. It's going to kill him if I don't hurry, but I don't have anything with me and I doubt I'd find anything useful here. _

"AAAHHHH! I _hate_ this! I hate being so damn helpless!" she screamed. "He's going to die and I can't even bloody help him!" she said with her fists clenched tightly in anger. She kicked a nearby rock and it bounced off the wall. She tried kicking a larger one but hurt herself in the process. "Urgh! What is wrong with me?" she yelled. Her voice echoed through the entire area. Suddenly, a voice, barely a whisper, came out of nowhere.

"Shut... up..."

"Who... who said that?" a scared Cyrille asked as she looked wildly from left to right.

The man felt an urge to roll his eyes and would have done so had he not been in that state. "O-ver... here... you... dun-der-head..." he said with a pause at each syllable. It was clear that the owner of the voice had a great difficulty in speaking. He felt like he was already out of breath just from saying a single sentence.

"Oh my God you're conscious!"

_But this girl is an idiot, _thought the man. _Of all the bloody luck in the universe, I end up being found by an imbecile. Is this how it ends for me? Is this justice? That I should die when the thing that could possibly stop my death is just inside my robes? If I don't die of blood loss, that is. I should have a small vial of anti-venom here somewhere. It won't heal me, but it would stop the poison from circulating in my system. If only I could somehow tell this silly girl to give it to me. But perhaps..._

"Look... at... me..." he said with all his strength. And the girl was startled into submission, for once not arguing. As they made eye contact, she felt images flash inside her mind. She saw herself grab a small red vial inside the man's robes. She saw herself tipping it to the man's mouth until he finished it. Then, she somehow understood that it was exactly what she had to do. She went to the man's side and knelt beside him. She then started locating the red vial from the man's robes. She couldn't believe her eyes when she saw it. She raised it up to the man's eyes for confirmation. When the man nodded, she helped him drink it. _S_he somehow understood from the vision earlier that this was a kind of anti-venom. After he downed the entire bottle, she was still worried about the blood loss._ What now?_

_Screw the statute of secrecy, _he thought. _I'm a dead man anyway._ "My... wand..."

"Wand?" she asked with a hint of uncertainty. _The man must be delusional, _she thought. She looked around for anything that resembled a wand just to satisfy him. She saw a thin wooden stick on the ground. _Well, this looks like a wand to me. _She picked it up and was surprised because the wood suddenly felt warm in her hand. Unbeknownst to the young girl, the wand was acknowledging her as a fellow wielder.

"Er... Is this the one you want?" she asked as she held it up for the man to see. The man gave a small nod. She approached him slowly and placed the piece of wood in his hand. "I'm sorry I couldn't be of much help, but I really think that you should be brought to a hospital. You've already lost so much blood. I could take you to one if you'd let me."

"No... no... hospital..." the man muttered absentmindedly. His brain was focused examining the feel of the wand in his hand. Then, with what little energy he had, he raised the wand and placed it against his throat. Cyrille was alarmed. She heard him mutter something that sounded suspiciously like Latin, and then he fainted.

"Please tell me that you did not just murder yourself!" she said. "But that wouldn't make sense because you just asked me to help you." She then noticed that the blood had stopped flowing. _The bleeding has stopped? But how? Wait, I shouldn't be thinking of that now. I still have to figure out what to do with this strange man. I ought to take him to a hospital, but he wouldn't let me. Perhaps he's a criminal? Or maybe he's hiding from bad people? _She continued pondering on the many possible reasons why he didn't want to be taken to a hospital when she caught sight of the wooden stick that the man held earlier.

_He looked attached to this stick for some reason. Maybe I should take it with me, just in case he looks for it again when he wakes up. _She picked the stick up and rolled it in her palm while still deep in thought. _It's obvious that this isn't just some random wood he picked up somewhere. It's too refined. But why would he run around buying something like this? I don't understand anything anymore. I don't understand how I ended up here. I don't understand how I'm going to get us out of here. I hate this! I wish I were back in the woods. I wish I were in a familiar surrounding. I wish I didn't have to worry about a man whose life may be in my hands! _

She was now fighting the urge to cry because she could feel the tears coming. She closed her eyes and thought of the woods, her safe haven. She thought of the clear blue lake that always seemed to calm her senses. She thought of the days when she used to hide there to escape the world. Then, very softly, she heard a whisper in her mind. Once again, she felt the warmth of the object in her hand. The voice she had heard was so soft that she thought she had imagined it. It seemed to have said _Portus_. She absently repeated the word in her mind without knowing what it meant. Then she saw a flicker of light through her closed eyelids. When she opened them again, nothing seemed to have changed. She sat down beside the man's unconscious form and hugged her knees to her chest. The room was as still as before, except –

"Why am I drawn to that stupid rock?" she asked, thinking that she was starting to become a bit delusional as well. She stood up and attempted to kick it away, but the moment her feet made contact with it, she felt another strange sensation. She felt the same kick in her senses that brought her there in the first place. In a moment of panic, she made a dive for the man's body. She tried to cling onto him in hopes that she wouldn't be whisked away to another place, although she didn't have the time to question how this was logically possible. It was almost like...

"Magic. That has got to be the reason why this happened, because the only other option is that I'm crazy and delusional," she said as, for the second time of the day, she crashed down hard on the floor. This time though, she wasn't alone. The man in black was with her and was still out cold. She took a good look at her surroundings and felt a huge relief when she noticed that she was back in the woods. Everything was going to be fine. Or so she hoped.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter III**

"I need to get some help. I can't possibly carry you by myself. Wait here," said Cyrille to the unconscious man. She ventured outside the woods back into civilization. As she reached the main road, she saw that the place was quite empty even though it was still rather early. She started to feel anxious once again. _What if I can't find anyone? I desperately need help. I wish that there were at least one person here who's willing to help me. _With that thought in mind, she continued walking. Just as she was about to turn back, she saw a faint shadow. _Good heavens! There's actually someone here! _She ran to the spot where she saw the shadow only to find an old man in its place. _Dare I ask this old man to help me carry someone heavier than himself? _

"Excuse me, I need your help. You see, there's an injured man in the woods nearby. Perhaps you could help me at least drag him somewhere safe, if not carry him?" she asked hopefully. The old man looked thoughtful. He gave her a strange calculating look, but he agreed nonetheless. So, she led the way with the old man trailing silently behind her. Upon their arrival, the old man wasted no time. As soon as he saw the unconscious body, he thrust a small jug into Cyrille's hand and told her to fill it with some water from the lake. She looked slightly confused by this instruction, but she followed him anyway. _What's he going to do with water from this lake? This jug looks like it can barely hold enough water for one to drink._

While contemplating this, she slowly walked to the body of water and filled the jug with liquid. After completing this task, she started walking back to the two men. She was surprised to see that the old man was now carrying the motionless body in his arms. _Oh my God! This is so creepy. The old man looks like he's about to break his bones any minute! _Then, without further warning, the man started walking toward the spot from where they entered earlier. Cyrille quickly jogged after them, not even bothering to ask where they were heading to.

Not long after, they reached a small house that loosely resembled a hut. The house seemed a bit strange. There was nothing wrong with it in itself, but it seemed odd when viewed with the rest of the houses in the vicinity. Even though it was a part of a populous area, it felt empty and isolated from the others.

It was then that Cyrille remembered why the place seemed to feel familiar to her. She realized that this was the house that was rumored to be inhabited by a strange old man. This old man was said to have been delving into the dark arts. Some less creative minds believed him to be a kidnapper or a criminal. Either way, the rumors weren't good. In fact, Cyrille often heard her classmates daring each other to trespass into the old man's property after midnight just to satisfy their curiosity, but no one was up to the challenge. It simply wasn't worth it. But Cyrille was not one to believe in rumors. She preferred to see and hear things with her own eyes and ears. Besides, she couldn't back out now. This man was her only hope. He wouldn't have wasted his time and energy carrying the man all this way if he were just planning to hurt them, right? With that thought in mind, she followed the old man to the doorstep and took slow and careful steps inside.

As she entered the house, she surveyed the place. It seemed like a typical house, except it smelled weird. It smelled like grass, Chinese medicine and other things she couldn't and didn't want to identify. She scrunched her face unconsciously at the smell. Suddenly, there was a hearty laugh echoing in the room. Cyrille turned her head and saw the old man chuckling. Blood rushed to her cheeks as she realized that the old man had seen her reaction earlier. She hoped that she hadn't offended him. After all, she never meant to insult or disrespect him.

She abruptly turned her head in the other direction so that he wouldn't see her blush. This time, she saw something on the couch that made her remember her purpose. She saw the man she desperately wanted to save, the reason for going through all this trouble. She saw the man whose life may finally be saved if only she did this properly. She suddenly felt a deep sadness for him. He looked like he has suffered a great number of difficulties in the course of his life. With the fire in her heart renewed, she turned back to the old man who was still smiling, looking at a distance. Then, as if he knew that she was looking at him, he spoke.

"Forgive me. It's been quite some time since I've actually had any visitors, so I've forgotten how bad their reactions can be about this smell."

"Er... I don't mean to be rude, sir, but what _is _this smell?" she asked. The old man gave another chuckle.

"Herbs, dear. Well, a variety of them, actually. I'm a healer, you see. Only I don't practice much anymore because I am getting older." Cyrille couldn't believe her luck.

"You mean you're a doctor? You can actually save this man?"

"I am a healer, not a doctor, child. But I suppose that to your kind, they are the same."

"My... kind?"

"Never mind my words, lass. Let us get to business. I'm going to need a hand. Will you help me?"

"Of course I will! So what do I do?"

"Grab a basin and fill it with clean water. We'll need to clean his cuts first. I'll get the cloth. You may find the supplies there," he said as he pointed towards a corner in the room. Cyrille returned with the supplies and placed them near the couch. She noticed that the table beside the couch was now filled with herbs and other objects that she couldn't identify. The old man motioned for her to come closer. He then started to wipe off the blood and dirt from the man's body. He worked silently and expertly, like he had been doing this for years already. He disrobed the man and proceeded to cover the minor cuts on his arms and legs with leaves. He also did the same to a gash on his forehead.

"I need to brew something. Where is the jug that I asked you to fill earlier?"

"It's here," she said as she handed the object to the man. "Why do you need water from the lake if you have a perfectly good supply of water here?"

"Well, the lake has its secrets. The lake is rumored to have certain healing properties that set it apart from the others. In the old days, the sick people used to go there to bathe. It was their belief that bathing in that lake will heal them. Sadly, no one believes in that anymore today.

"But you believe in that?"

"Well, I have helped with the recovery of many who have come to me. I'd like to believe that this one rumor is true," he said. He then proceeded to preparing different herbs, some strange ingredients and a large pot. Or at least it looked like a pot. He lit a fire and started cutting up disgusting things that looked suspiciously like slugs. Then, he started throwing in ingredients at certain intervals. Occasionally, he would stir, and then he would continue to throw in more ingredients.

"This needs to simmer first before I can finish the last few steps," he said. After a few minutes of silence, Cyrille spoke.

"Will he be alright?"

The man sighed. "I suspect so. The only problem he has right now is the blood loss, although I can't imagine how he lost so much blood with the cuts on his arms and legs. The gash on his forehead should have been the cause for the majority of the blood loss, but it was not enough to get him into this state. You didn't notice anything odd when you found him?" At this, Cyrille abruptly shut up. She couldn't tell this man what she had just witnessed today. What could she possibly say? 'Oh hey! You know, there was a snake bite on his neck earlier. And then I had this vision about giving him an antidote from inside his robes. And guess what. It actually worked! Oh, and did I mention that his blood somehow stopped spilling after he stuck this wooden stick on his throat and muttered some foreign language?' Right. That'd be brilliant.

"I don't know," she said. The man gave her a strange look but didn't speak. They were silent for a while. Then, the man resumed the conversation.

"You found him near the lake?"

"Well, not really. I found him elsewhere. I just brought him there somehow." This wasn't exactly a lie. She did somehow manage to transport themselves there. "Anyway, I'm glad you were there. Otherwise, I'd still be stuck out there. I don't know what I'd do if that were the case."

"You seem like a bright girl. I'm sure you would have found a solution. But let's not dwell on the what-if's. I believe our potion is now ready for the last stage." He added the last few finishing touches and bottled the potion in a clear glass vial. He then approached the couch and propped the man's head up on a pillow. He tipped the potion into the man's mouth and massaged his throat to help him swallow it. Cyrille watched every move that happened in the room as she waited for the results. Suddenly, there was a deafening silence in the room as the man started hyperventilating. This was followed by a session of violent coughing. Then, blood started dripping from his mouth.

* * *

A/N: So how's the story so far? I hope it's not getting boring! :) Sorry there's not much Snape so far. But don't worry, he'll have more exposure starting next chapter! Let me know what you guys think. Leave a review!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter IV**

"Oh my God what's happening?" she asked as she tried to get to the man's side, when a hand grabbed her arm.

"Don't touch him. He's coughing up whatever is ailing him. He must have been poisoned, but he was able to stop the venom in its tracks. However, he was unable to expel it from his bloodstream. He merely prevented further damage. He should be fine in a while."

"But he looks dreadful! And it looks like he's in a lot of pain."

"I'm very sorry, but this is necessary for his recovery. He shall be fine, believe me," said the old man as he laid a hand on Cyrille's shoulder. He wiped off the blood from the man's face and then, he left the room to give her some time alone.

Cyrille didn't look entirely convinced by the man's words, but she didn't want to argue with him. She sat down on the floor beside the couch while hugging her knees to her chest. Tears stung her eyes. She wanted the pain to stop. She wanted the man to stop suffering. Wasn't it enough that he had already suffered through the poison and the blood loss? Did he have to suffer too as he was recovering? It just wasn't fair. She hated feeling helpless. She hated sitting there while the man was suffering. She hated everything! Finally, she crumbled. Tears were now freely falling down her cheeks. She hugged herself tighter.

"Silly child... Why... are you... crying...?"

"You're awake! You shouldn't even talk. I thought you were a goner! You scared me to death!" she yelled as she wiped her tears with her arm. She was so relieved that she didn't notice herself towering over the couch.

"Stop yelling! You're... giving me... a headache..."

"Sorry! Do you need anything? Some water, perhaps?" she asked. The man nodded. She rushed to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. She rushed back to the living room to where the man was lying. She tried to help him drink the water, but the man ignored him. Instead, he attempted to sit up with great effort.

"Don't! Let me help you."

"I'm fine! I feel... better... already..."

"Fine? Are you kidding me? You can barely speak." The man gave her his famous death glare, but Cyrille was a stubborn girl. She matched his glare with one of hers. After a few moments of tension, he gave up and sighed. He let her sit him up on the couch, but he grabbed the glass from Cyrille's grasp. He wasn't about to accept defeat that easily. This earned him another glare from the girl. It made him feel like a little child being told what not to do.

_The annoying little nitwit! She dares to challenge me? Who does she think she is? Now that I think about it, who _is _she? I remember her from earlier. She saved me... somehow. But what is this place? Her home? And I'm almost positive someone force fed me some Blood Replenishing Potion. Does she have magical origins then? If so, then why did she save me? Does she not know that I'm possibly the most wanted Death Eater at the moment? _At the thought of Death Eaters, he remembered why all this had happened in the first place. _Albus! The old fool! Where is he now when I need him? Oh right. I killed him. In all his infinite wisdom, the old wizard decided to ask me to kill him. Now I have nowhere to go because I'm wanted for a crime that the victim asked me to commit. How ironic. _He laughed bitterly. The past was just too much for him. The more he thought about it, the angrier he felt. His temper was starting to flare once again. He momentarily felt sorry for the girl for taking his anger out on her, but that sentiment was soon forgotten.

"How are you feeling?"

"How do you _think... _I'm feeling...?"

"Right. Sorry. I'll go get the old man to check up on you." With that, she disappeared from his view. When she returned a few moments later, she noticed that the man hadn't moved an inch from where she had left him. The old man appeared a second later. He positioned himself beside the younger man. He took his patient's arm and checked his pulse. The younger man stiffened at the contact, but the healer pretended not to notice this. He gave him some more colorful concoctions to drink. Then, he turned to Cyrille, who was standing from a distance behind him.

"It is getting late, child. Shouldn't you be running home before your parents begin to worry about your whereabouts?"

"Actually, I'm not living with my parents, and my aunt's probably out tonight."

"Nevertheless, you should still go home. You may return in the morning if you wish. It is dangerous for a young girl like yourself to be lurking about here at this hour."

"But I... alright. I'll come back tomorrow, if it's alright with you," she said with a hint of uncertainty. She locked eyes with the man before nodding to the old healer and leaving. After a few minutes of silence, the younger man spoke.

"Why?"

"Why what?" the old man asked patiently.

"Why... save me...?"

"It is my job."

"I am a Death Eater, possibly... the most wanted one right now... Do not lie to me, I... I am aware that you... have knowledge of our world... for you are no Muggle..."

"Oh dear. It would seem like my potions gave me away," he said as he gave a light chuckle.

"You have yet... to answer... my question..."

"You have a huge bounty on your head," the old man said. When the other man's eyes widened, he chuckled. "I was just kidding. As I said, I am a healer. It is my job to treat those who are in need of treatment. I do not choose my patients. It is one of the qualities that a healer should have. Enough questions, now. It is getting late, Severus Snape. You must rest," he said as he left with a small knowing smile on his lips. "Oh and before I forget..." he flourished his wand and transfigured the couch into a comfortable bed.

Severus Snape was now alone in the room, lying on the bed the man had transfigured for him. _So he _does_ know me. Foolish old man. Now I wonder what happened to my wand. The little nitwit must have taken it, or perhaps she left it in the Shack. Sometimes, I wish it were legal to throttle children. _He drifted off to sleep, and for the first time in many years, he slept peacefully.

* * *

Cyrille stood in front of her house with many thoughts plaguing her mind. She had so many questions. Surprisingly though, the question she wanted to be answered most was what the men's names were. She wanted to hit herself for being so stupid. Wasn't that what you normally ask for when you meet someone for the first time? But then again, there wasn't anything normal about what had happened to her. She made a mental note to ask the man in black about her experiences that day. Hopefully, he wouldn't think that she was going bonkers when she told him about what she thought had really happened while she was saving him.

She entered her house. As predicted, her aunt was out. Again. Cyrille's aunt was very young and was therefore an irresponsible guardian. She was always out partying with her friends, and she never really looked out for Cyrille, but the girl didn't blame her. It wasn't her aunt's fault that her parents had disappeared the night she was born. Her aunt was the only family Cyrille had. Aunt Judith was her father's cousin and was therefore a strong candidate for her guardianship. Cyrille didn't exactly hate her aunt, but she felt no love for her either. After all, she was certain that the feeling was mutual. Her aunt didn't mind her as long as she came home in one piece. Most of the time, Cyrille had to fend for herself. And that was why tonight was like any other night. After making sure that the front door was properly locked, she went upstairs to her bedroom. She threw herself on the bed and stared at the ceiling for a long, long time. She thought of the events of the day. She gave a small smile as she remembered that the man in black was now in safe hands. One more thing off her conscience. With that thought, she allowed herself to fall asleep.

The next morning, she woke up to the sound of tapping on her glass window. She was startled to see a small brown owl trying to bang its way in. This was her first time seeing an owl up close and she was awestruck. She snapped herself out of her momentary reverie as she noticed that the owl was still forcing its way in. She quickly opened the window and let the creature in. The beautiful owl flew over her shoulder and stuck its leg out. Cyrille found this funny. It was then that she noticed a note tied to the owl's leg. She untied it and found a small piece of paper – no, parchment – filled with almost unreadable script. It was obvious that the person responsible for this was in quite a hurry writing the note. When she was finally able to discern what was written, she felt her heart stop. It read:

He's gone.

- Old man


	5. Chapter 5

Hey! Sorry for updating a little late. I'd just like to say thank you to everyone who has bothered reading this! My story has reached 600 views all thanks to you! So, here's the next chapter. Don't forget to R&R! Enjoy! :)

**Chapter V**

Cyrille stood dumbstruck, letter firmly held in her trembling hands. She felt all her energy leave her body as her legs gave out and she sank down on her bed. _He's gone? Dead gone or missing gone? Damn it all! I did _not _save him just so he could kill himself again. Stubborn little jerk! He'd better still be alive when I get to him, because I'll make sure that I kill him myself. _She stood abruptly and left the room with a new determination, leaving the poor startled owl behind. It glared at her disapprovingly, as if letting her know how displeased it was at being left behind without a simple thank you or an owl treat. It hooted angrily.

* * *

In the midst of the empty streets where the only noise was the rustling of leaves, a dark figure could be seen strolling around. This dark figure seemed to be in a bad mood as there was a permanent scowl plastered on his face. He was definitely not a morning person. Everything about mornings irked him, even the chirping of the innocent birds. While he was still at Hogwarts, his mornings used to be plagued by the loud chatter of his useless students with nothing better to do, or by his co-teachers' annoying gossips about the students' love lives, or by the headmaster asking for his opinion on the most useless things such as what color robes to wear or which Muggle confection to try next. No, Severus Snape did not like mornings.

He wanted to curse himself for choosing such an hour to leave the comforts of his bed, but he reminded himself that this was necessary. Otherwise, the old man and the little brat wouldn't let go of him. It wasn't that he was ungrateful. In fact, he considered this as a life debt which he fully intended to pay back eventually. But right now, he had more important things to deal with. And the sooner they were dealt with, the better.

First on his to-do list was to clear his name. It was absolutely impossible for him to start over if he was still being accused of murder and other Death Eater activities. He wasn't sure if Potter that imbecile had done anything to get him cleared. After all, the brat thought that he was dead. He vaguely wondered how that dunderhead was able to defeat the Dark Overlord. He wasn't even sure that their side had won. But seeing that there were no burning Muggle towns or Dark Marks in the sky, that had to be the case. He suddenly remembered something that made his scowl deeper, if that were even possible.

_My wand! Damn it! How am I to survive this journey without it? I cannot just walk into a shop and purchase one. They would have my head! I don't even have Polyjuice Potion to help me accomplish this. Besides, I'm as good as broke now. _Once again, he wanted to find the little numskull and strangle her. Maybe that would shake some sense into her puny brain. How dare she steal his wand! Or leave it in the Shack, whichever it was that she did. He desperately hoped that she had enough sense to keep the object, seeing as how attached he was to it at that time. But he knew that the brat would force him back into the healer's hut the moment she saw him. He certainly didn't escape from the healer just so he could get dragged back there. But he desperately needed his wand, so he made up his mind. He was going to find the brat, and then deal with her later. For now, his wand was more important.

_I should have just waited for her to come back and visit this morning then. But I wouldn't have been able to escape. No matter. I'll just have to find the brat and outsmart her into surrendering my wand. That is, if she has it. I'm not Head of Slytherin House for nothing. Now where did she say she lived again?_

* * *

Cyrille stared at the door to the old man's house dreading whatever was to come. She took a deep breath and knocked thrice. The door suddenly swung open revealing the old man's sullen face.

"What happened?" asked Cyrille, a little breathless.

"He just disappeared. This morning, I was about to offer him some breakfast. When I arrived, he was already gone," said the old man. Cyrille didn't know what to feel. Although she was worried about the man, she also felt a great sense of relief at the same time. The man wasn't dead.

Upon seeing the girl's reaction, the healer added, "Do not worry about his condition, child. He is already rid of the poison and most of his wounds have already closed. The only risk remaining is his low stamina level. He may get tired rather easily and needs all the rest he can get. His immune system is also down, so he may catch diseases more easily. Other than that, there is nothing more to worry about. He should be able to regain his full health in two weeks time."

"In one day? The poison and his cuts are all healed in a day?"

"Let's just say that my medicine has magical properties," said the man with a strange look. Cyrille thought about this and decided that he was just trying to lighten up the mood.

"I'll look for him anyway." Cyrille turned her back on the other man and rushed to the door without looking back. She started looking in the streets nearby. After all, the man couldn't have gotten far in his condition.

She went farther and farther into town but she didn't see any sign of the man. She even tried asking a few early risers if they saw a man dressed in black. Unfortunately, no one seemed to have encountered such a person. After nearly two hours of searching, she was ready to give it a rest. She planned to go home first to freshen up and find a new plan. Searching aimlessly was the least ideal thing to do in this kind of situation. She made the last turn and ended up in the street where her house was situated. As she walked, she saw something that made her want to cry, throw a tantrum and commit murder at the same time. There, walking aimlessly, was her man in black.

"You have got to be kidding me. I have wasted my entire morning searching only to find you here? IN FRONT OF MY HOUSE? Unbelievable!" she screamed to no one in particular. She just felt like releasing all her pent up emotions. She was hungry, tired and worried. This was not the best mood to put a girl in.

The man didn't seem to hear her despite the volume of her voice. Cyrille wasted no time. She picked a tiny rock off the ground and threw it at the man's back. The effect was instantaneous. Severus abruptly turned expecting to meet his enemies, when his eyes landed on a small figure. The brat!

"And just what is the meaning of this?" asked Severus in a menacing tone that would've made his students, especially his first years, cry. It didn't seem to affect the brat in the same way, however. If anything, it made her even angrier.

"I should be asking you that! What the hell were you thinking running off like that? I was worried to death about you!"

"Language! And watch your tone, young lady! My health is none of your concern. I am old enough to look after myself," he said, his face now inches from hers.

"You – you- you nimrod! Of course it's my concern, I was the one who brought you out of that place! How... how do you think I would feel if you... if you... if something happened to you?" she asked as she tried to hold back her tears. She felt like lashing out. She wanted to hit this man for being such an idiot. Her statement made him feel ashamed of his own actions.

"I... I apologize for snapping at you. I understand that you are... concerned. However, I suggest you do not get attached to me. There are things that I must do."

"Things like what?" she asked.

"I cannot say. Right now, I have but a request. Remember when we were back at the Shack? I asked you to hand me an object, a wooden stick."

"You mean the wand?"

"You know about wands?" asked a confused Snape.

"You called it that," said Cyrille. "What is it? You can't possibly mean magic wand, magic doesn't exist."

"It doesn't matter, child. I need it. I need to know what you've done with it."

"What if I told you that I had it?"

"You have it? You actually brought it back with you?" asked Snape hopefully. Cyrille nodded. "Where is it?"

"I'm not handing it over."

"What?"

"I said I'm not handing it over," said Cyrille defiantly.

"Why you little – " he stopped himself. _Calm down, Snape. You're not going to solve anything this way. _"What is it that you want?" he asked calmly.

"Two weeks. Stay for two weeks. Then, I'll return your wand," said Cyrille. Figuring that the girl wasn't likely to back down, Snape found himself conceding as he was too tired to argue. _So much for outsmarting the brat. If she were a witch, she'd probably end up in Slytherin. Although if she's stupid enough to blackmail me, then she might have a future in Gryffindor as well._

* * *

A/N: So how's the chapter? Any comments? Suggestions? Violent reactions? Let me know what you think! :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter VI**

"Well, since you're already here, you might as well enter my house," said Cyrille casually.

_What is this girl planning? _"You're going to let a complete stranger into your house?" asked Snape incredulously. "And how, pray tell, do you plan on explaining my presence to your parents?" he added with his usual sneer.

"First of all, I live with my aunt. And before you start another one on me, she's not, and probably won't be home until late. As for your being a stranger... well, if you'd just tell me your name then that situation should be rectified," said the girl, looking pleased with herself for coming up with such an explanation.

"Knowing my name does not mean I am no longer a stranger!"

"Well, fact is, I've known you for quite a while now. I might add that I've already seen you at your worst. That should qualify as something."

_Damn this brat. Does she have an answer for everything? _He looked at the girl in mild irritation. _If I am to have any hope of retrieving my wand then I must keep her close at all costs._

"Fine!" he grumbled irritably. "I'll come with you."

"You're really not going to tell me your name, are you?" He shot her a glare. "Fine. I'll just call you Grumpy then. Like one of the seven dwarfs."

"My name is Severus Snape. You'd do well to remember that," said the man in a dangerously low whisper. As soon as the words left his lips however, he regretted it. He was in enough danger as it is, and he definitely did not want to be kissed by a Dementor because of his own carelessness. It was better if everyone thought that he was dead while his name hasn't been cleared yet. In hopes that the girl would have enough sense to listen, he added, "I would appreciate it if you did not go about spreading my name."

"Who would I be spreading your name to?" She rolled her eyes. _Insolent brat! _"So you wouldn't mind me calling you Severus then?"

"Would it matter to you if I said I minded?" Snape whispered to himself.

"I'm Cyrille Cromwell. Pleased to formally meet you," said Cyrille as she extended her hand. She was gratified with a look of pure horror, as if making any kind of physical contact with her would kill him.

"Can we just go inside before I freeze to death?"

"Of course," said Cyrille without taking any offense. She stepped inside her house with Snape following closely behind.

As they entered, Snape was able to take in the details of the house. From the looks of it, the owner, apparently the brat's aunt, must be well off. The marble floor shone like it had never been stepped on. The walls were adorned with still paintings that were simply breathtaking. In the middle of the living room, one lone chandelier hung above them. There was not a speck of dust to be seen. The furnishings were elegant. Antique. The size of the house was rather admirable. Clearly, it was too large for a household of two.

While the man was busy surveying the house, Cyrille popped in and out of the kitchen carrying a tray of tea and biscuits.

"There's a couch in the room for a reason," Cyrille pointed out as she set the tray on the coffee table. "I figured you'd like some tea and biscuits. You look like you'd need it."

"Tea, yes. Biscuits, no," said Snape as he obligingly grabbed a cup. The two sat in momentary silence as they each enjoyed their tea. It wasn't long before Snape's mind had conjured something to think about once again.

Although Snape was normally a man of few words, today he felt the need to inquire more about this mysterious child sitting in front of him. Besides, if she was going to be forced upon his presence then he might as well make this encounter bearable.

"Do you live alone with your aunt? Your home is rather large for just the two of you."

"Yeah."

_Curious. Now she suddenly decides she doesn't want to chat? _"So how come you're alone right now?"

"She has her own business to attend to."

"How irresponsible. You should not be left alone here even if she were busy. She should have at least asked someone to look after you while she was gone."

"I don't need to be babysat! I can look after myself." Cyrille was starting to get annoyed. She did not like talking about her life. Besides, it wasn't like anybody ever gave a damn about her. Now was indeed the perfect time for a distraction. "I almost forgot! We have to tell the old man that you're safe."

"Miss Cromwell, I have no intentions of going back there."

"I can't force you to go back there, but you owe him at least an explanation. You'd have died if it weren't for him!"

"Yes, undoubtedly. Due to someone's incompetence."

"Honestly! How could you blame me for anything? I pulled you out of that stinking place!"

"I did not ask to be saved! Maybe I wanted to be left there. Maybe I wanted my life to end. But you dragged me back into this rotten world! Why couldn't you have minded your own business?"

"Do you seriously think that I would be able to live with myself if I had left you there to die? Because honestly, the idea crossed my mind several times. But I told myself it was the right thing to do. I'm sorry you don't feel the same way," said the girl in an even tone. She turned away from the man and headed for the stairs for fear that the man would see her cry.

Snape heard the door slam and guessed that the girl decided to find comfort in her room. _Damn your temper, Severus! You shouldn't have yelled at her. She's just a child! _For both their sakes, he decided to let the child alone so that both of them had some time to cool off. He remained where he was and hoped that she didn't take his words too seriously.

Upstairs, Cyrille sat in her bed hugging her knees to her chest as she thought about what happened. Several tears escaped from her eyes and she wanted to curse herself for being so weak. _Why is it that I always cry because of him when I haven't cried in years despite how miserable my life is? I hate him! He's the stupidest, most stubborn and annoying person I've ever met! If he doesn't need me, fine! He can go screw himself. _As if sensing her sadness, the owl hooted by the window pane.

"You're still here? I thought you returned to your owner already." It cocked its head sideways, as if contemplating what the girl had just said. She turned her full attention to the owl, completely forgetting all her frustrations earlier. "I wonder... if he was able to send me a letter through you, would I be able to do the same?" she asked. The owl resumed its hooting. _I wonder if it can somewhat understand me. It looks like its answering my questions. Too bad I don't speak owl._

Suddenly, she heard a soft knock on her door. She glared at the offending noise and ignored it. "Miss Cromwell, I know you're in there. Please come out and let us have a more civil conversation."

_Civil? I was being civil until he threw everything I said back at me! _"Go away!"

"Miss Cromwell, you are being incredibly childish right now," said Snape impatiently.

"Didn't you just call me a child earlier? I said go away! I don't want to talk!"

_I am done being civil. If she doesn't come out then I'll just have to go in. _He readied himself for another childish fit as he turned the knob and – Oof! He came face to face with a pillow. Before he even had the time to register it, another pillow was on its way. Snape, having years of practice in dueling, was able to dodge the second one to the annoyance of the girl.

"Enough of this nonsense!" he yelled. It frightened the owl into hiding, but not the girl. She looked like she had more in store for him. Upon seeing the expression of defiance on the girl's face, he sighed. "I apologize once again for raising my voice. If I promised to control my temper, would you be willing to listen?" The girl looked uncertain, but her expression was beginning to soften. Seeing this as an opportunity, Snape took a few steps closer. When Cyrille didn't oppose, he sat down at the edge of the bed and looked straight into her eyes. He noticed that they were red and puffy. This made him feel guiltier.

"My apologies for what I said to you earlier. I went over the line. Those words were spoken in my fit of anger and should not be taken seriously. I meant none of it."

"I'm sorry for yelling at you too, but I meant every word that I said."

"I know," said Snape. He stared into the empty space as he reflected on his actions.

"And? You're not mad?"

"No, I told you I was angry before. I wasn't really thinking straight."

"Can we just forget about earlier?" asked Cyrille quietly. Snape was startled at how innocent children could get.

"Of course," he said. It was then that he noticed an owl perched on top of the cabinet. "Miss Cromwell, is that owl yours?" he asked with genuine curiosity.

"Owl? Oh, that! Well, that's how I found out that you had disappeared. I woke up to its tapping on the glass. Apparently, they could be used as messengers. That's what the old man did, anyway."

"I see," said Snape. _Irresponsible. Does he plan on exposing the Wizarding World to this child? _He ignored the fact that he did exactly the same thing in the Shack not too long ago.

"Don't you think it's beautiful? It's my first time seeing an owl up close. I was thinking... if it were smart enough to find me then maybe I could send a message back to the old man through it."

"I'm sure your message will get across."

"Does everyone know that owls can do that? I always thought they did nothing but stare at you with their huge eyes."

"It is not a known fact, but you shouldn't go around telling people about this information. It might endanger them," said Snape to defer the brat from exposing more about their world.

"I see. I think I'll write to the old man first, if you don't mind. Would you like to tell him anything?"

"Just send him my gratitude." Cyrille looked pleased. After writing her letter, she let the owl deliver it through her window. She watched as it stretched its beautiful wings and disappeared from her view. _It's really strange that I should see an owl here. Speaking of strange..._

"Severus?"

"Yes?"

"This is going to sound crazy, but... you know that time when I found you in that place?" _How could I possibly forget. _"I was wandering the woods that day when I got lost. Then I felt this... kick in my stomach and I just landed there. And then I saw your body." Snape sat wide-eyed as the girl told her story. He completely forgot to ask the girl about how she found him in a Wizarding village. _From the looks of it, she stumbled upon a Portkey that brought her there. Although what a Portkey would be doing in the woods, especially one that would lead into the Shack, is beyond me._

"I didn't know what to do. You were there and you were bleeding pretty badly. There wasn't any water I could clean your cuts with and the blood won't stop flowing. At first I considered leaving you there because you looked dead, but my conscience wouldn't let me. It turned out you were alive," she said. Her eyes were distant. She was reliving the memory as it played out in her head. "I was frustrated. I hated feeling helpless. Then, the strangest thing happened. You spoke. And then, that vision came. I didn't know how, but it just did. I saw myself giving you the antidote and I just knew what I had to do. I... you think I'm crazy," she said as she saw the man's expression.

"No, I don't think you are."

"Then tell me what happened, because I'm sure you know something."

"That was purely adrenaline. Out of your panic, you managed a great feat. It is not unheard of. You are not crazy," Snape reasoned out. He simply couldn't bring himself to tell the girl that it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with him. He was just glad that the girl opened up to him about this. Otherwise, she might still believe that she was going crazy. "Out of curiosity, how did I end up in the old man's hands?"

At this point, Cyrille didn't want to reveal any more information. She still wasn't convinced about Snape's theory on adrenaline, but she certainly didn't want him to think she were mental. "I left you for a while to get help because I couldn't carry you alone, and dragging you out would have been worse. He was the first person I saw so I asked him," said Cyrille. She conveniently forgot to mention that she somehow managed to get them transported back into the woods first before that happened.

Without the use of Legilimency, Snape was not able to tell that the girl had not been entirely truthful about the matter.

* * *

A/N: Another chapter done! It would be nice to hear your opinions on how the story is so far. Is there anything in particular you would like to see or is there anything you want me to change? On another note, do you guys think my chapters are too short?

As always, thanks for reading! Don't forget to let me know what you think! ;)


	7. Chapter 7

I'm really sorry for not updating in over a month, but I've been rather busy. I hope you haven't given up on this story because I haven't! I made it extra long to make up for my lack of work, so here it is! :)

* * *

**Chapter VII**

By some miracle, Cyrille was able to convince Snape to spend the night there even though he was reluctant to do so. His reluctance was mainly because he felt bad for the girl's aunt for staying in her house uninvited, but he wasn't sure he wanted to reveal his presence either. In the end, he decided to just stay for the night. Tomorrow, he would find somewhere to spend the next two weeks as agreed with the brat.

"The guest rooms are on the second floor," said Cyrille. "You don't have to worry about my aunt, she sleeps on the third floor. She hates running into me when she's home." Snape arched an eyebrow at her statement. "Late nights make people grumpy. She goes straight to bed as soon as she arrives."

"Does she always come home late?" asked Snape.

"Occasionally," said the girl with a noncommittal shrug. Her attitude was starting to bother Snape, but he decided to let this go. He wasn't in any position to pry into the child's personal affairs. Besides, what did he know about families? His situation with his own family was less than ideal.

"I think I shall retire early for tonight," said Snape. The girl nodded. _Poor Severus. He must be feeling exhausted._

"All the rooms on the second floor are available. Feel free to use any one of them." With that, Cyrille left for her own room on the far end of the floor.

* * *

The next morning, Snape woke up feeling well rested. After a warm shower, he made his way downstairs with the intention of taking a short walk. He thought it would be good for his health if he had a little exercise instead of just staying cooped up inside the house.

As he reached the landing, he smelled the scent of food. For a moment, his heart skipped a beat. Was the brat's aunt awake and cooking breakfast already? Merlin! Surely he'd be accused of all sorts of inappropriate things.

Just as he was about to turn back, he heard a surprised yelp. "Miss Cromwell?" he asked with the slightest hint of uncertainty. He proceeded to walk until the girl was in full view. _What on earth is this girl doing? _He saw the girl clutching her left hand and looking a bit confused.

"Severus?"

"What _are_ you doing?" he asked as he tried to make sense of the scene in front of him. From the looks of it, the brat was trying to cook.

"Cooking, obviously!" said the girl indignantly.

"Cooking does not involve holding your hand over the frying pan."

"It's not like I did it on purpose! I was going to cook some pancakes for us when I thought I felt someone's presence. Turns out it was only you," said the girl with a pout. "Why are you down here so early anyway?"

_She felt me? She must be more sensitive than normal Muggles. _"I should be asking you the same question. No normal child wakes up at five in the morning. Trust me, I've been around children almost my entire life now. I should know."

"No normal _person _should be awake at five in the morning. I just couldn't sleep and I got hungry so I decided to cook breakfast. I have to get ready for school later anyway."

"I see. Show me your hand."

"It's nothing. I'm fine. It's just a little burn."

"It is not nothing. Your hand, Miss Cromwell." Cyrille reluctantly offered her left hand to the man. She felt odd. This was the first time anyone has ever shown concern for her and it was over something as minor as a little burn.

"It is only a minor burn. You should be fine," said Snape as he gently dealt with the injury. Unbeknownst to him, the young girl's heart was slowly warming up to him.

"Thanks," said the girl shyly.

"Any adult would have done the same," said Snape with a nod.

_Not really. This is stupid. He does one small act of kindness and you instantly get sentimental? No. You must not be attached to him. What will you do when he leaves in two weeks? You'd feel betrayed again. You have to stop this while you still can. _Cyrille offered the man a weary smile and returned to the task at hand. Suddenly, she felt a hand grab her arm.

"Why don't you leave that to me? Children shouldn't cook unsupervised."

"I... okay. Er... thanks, I guess." Snape took over the cooking while Cyrille absently headed to the dining table. Her emotions were a mess. She was starting to feel confused all over again. She wasn't used to depending on anyone. After all, she had had to fend for herself for as long as she could remember.

She often wished she had a family she could actually call her own. People who would love her unconditionally. People who would listen to her when she needed to talk. People who wouldn't judge her. But so far, she hadn't had any luck in that aspect. The only person who did all of those things was herself, but she had learned to accept that and deal with it. Now, though, she wasn't so sure that she's learned to accept it after all. Why was this man causing her so much confusion? Suddenly, a voice brought her back to reality.

"Miss Cromwell, I thought you were hungry?" Cyrille was surprised to see Snape sitting across her and the pancakes already served in front of them. She took a tentative bite. "I have not added poison to your food," said Snape as he noticed the girl's reluctance.

"Sorry. I wasn't really complaining. This is good." Snape nodded and continued watching the child with mild curiosity. They both ate in silence, a rare occurrence which Snape relished. He never liked the loud and boisterous children he normally had to deal with. At least this one was silent.

After ten minutes of comfortable silence, Cyrille noticed that Snape was already done eating. When she finished her share, she took their plates, headed for the sink and did the dishes. The man had made no objections. As soon as she finished the task, she headed for the stairs without sparing so much as a glance for Snape.

Entering the comforts of her room, Cyrille sat down on her bed and gave a deep sigh, a sigh which accurately described her feelings. She felt tired of the world conspiring against her, but she knew she couldn't simply give up. She forced herself to forget her worries once again and buried them deep down inside her. Letting out another sigh, she went to her closet and started rummaging through it for her uniform. As soon as she got hold of it, she changed into it and proceeded to fix her school bag.

Once she was sure that she had everything she needed, she positioned herself in front of the mirror and took a long look. _I look like a mess. _Her hair was sticking out in all the wrong places. She looked as bad as she felt.

She started combing through her unruly hair and had to yank her comb harshly on several occasions just to tame it. Fighting with her hair was a normal morning routine for her. After a while, she finally held her victory. Satisfied that she no longer looked like she had just come straight from bed, she wore her backpack and headed downstairs. When she reached the landing, she noticed that the living room was already empty. _Severus must have taken a walk or something. _She left her house and started on her journey to school which was really just a short one.

Cyrille walked slowly as she was in no hurry to get to school. As she reached the place, she headed for her classroom. Since it was rather early, she found herself alone. She sat herself on one of the chairs in the back row and stared at the window while waiting for the time to pass and for the other students to come in. _Another boring day._

* * *

Snape was walking in the empty streets when he felt the presence of another person nearby. He turned and saw the old healer standing behind him.

"May I help you?" asked Snape in his usual tone.

"I was just out for a morning walk. No need to be so hostile," said the healer.

"I sincerely hope that your definition of a walk isn't to sneak up on other people while they are unaware of your presence."

"You were not exactly unaware," he said bemusedly. "But I did not come here to irritate you," he added as he saw a look of annoyance flash on Snape's face. The younger man was not one for small talk.

"Surely you did not just come for a chat, old man. What is your purpose for coming here?"

"Ah, but I'm tired of being addressed as old. My name is Elias. My mistake for not informing you earlier, but I may have some lapses in memory from time to time," he said with a chuckle. "As for my purpose, how about a conversation over tea in my house?" At first, Snape was annoyed that someone would dare to disturb his morning. But after giving it a thought, he realized that he didn't really have anything better to do. He gave the old man a short nod.

"I shall take you up on your offer today," he said as they both started to walk. He realized that the old man had not really answered his question.

As they reached the house, Elias offered Snape to stay in the living room while he prepared for tea in the kitchen. This gave time for Snape's thoughts to wander. He remembered his stay there. It hadn't been pleasant, but he was thankful. If not for Elias and the brat, he would have been dead.

Something on the coffee table caught his eye. In the front page of the newspaper was a booming headline that read "Death Eaters still on the Loose". It was the Daily Prophet. He didn't even bother reading it. With the Dark Lord, no, Voldemort gone, the Death Eaters were bound to be lost. He was the only thing they had lived for. Now that he was gone, the only thing that awaited his old pals was Azkaban. He shuddered at the thought.

The sound of footsteps brought him back to reality. He looked up and saw Elias walking toward him with a large silver tray in his hands. "You are no stranger to this house. Please make yourself comfortable."

"What did you wish to see me for?" asked Snape with genuine curiosity.

"I wanted to have a little chat."

"Please do not act like the reincarnation of Dumbledore," he said as he rolled his eyes. "I am not one for small talk." The old man gave a chuckle.

"You seem quite fond of him," said the old man. He noticed Snape's normally cool expression morph into one of horror.

"I do not experience such emotions," said Snape.

"While you would not admit to it, it is the truth. You are human, completely capable of having these emotions. But let us put off this discussion for another time. For now, I would like to offer you a proposal," said the old man. Snape merely raised an eyebrow to indicate that Elias should go on. "I am aware that you have no place to stay in at the moment. I would like to offer you to stay in this house for as long as you need to," Snape was about to protest when Elias raised his voice to indicate that he was not yet finished with what he was saying. "For a price," he finished. "Are you interested?"

"And what might this price be?" asked Snape.

"I would like your help in brewing. I heard that you are exceptional in the field of potions." Snape gave this a thought. It was true that he didn't have a place to live in at the moment, and the price the man was asking for wasn't too much. He figured he could do this until his two weeks were up, but he had to make sure there wasn't a catch.

"You have decent potion making skills. After all, I didn't die the last time you fed me that Blood Replenishing Potion. Why would you need me?" he asked skeptically.

"Alas, I am getting old. Even though I love brewing, sometimes my hands are not stable enough for preparing some especially sensitive potions. I am now quite limited to basic ones," said Elias with a longing smile. Snape, being a Legilimens, knew that the man wasn't lying.

"I refuse to brew any potion which might bring harm to another," said Snape as a precaution.

"I will give you the freedom to decide which potions you wish to brew for me. I shall hand you a list of what I need if that is agreeable to you."

"And you would trust a former Death Eater with potions that are supposed to heal others?" asked Snape a little harshly.

"I would not have offered otherwise."

"I will not stay in this place for long, if you must know. I will do what I can for you in the mean time," said Snape. "I would also like to send you my gratitude for all your help," he added. He was beginning to feel uncomfortable with the situation. He was not used to openly showing his feelings, but it seemed wrong to him not to properly thank the man.

"There is no need to thank me, I only did my job. Besides, the little girl has already told me that you wanted to thank me. What was her name again?"

"Her name is Cyrille. Cyrille Cromwell."

"Yes, such a sweet thing, isn't she?" Snape snorted.

"More like annoying," he said.

"You've started to care for her," said Elias in a matter-of-factly tone.

"I do not care for brats," said Snape as they both fell silent. The two spent the time quietly drinking their own cups of tea.

* * *

Cyrille was on her way home when Snape told her the news of his working for Elias. "So you'll be staying there?" she asked.

"I believe I just said that."

"That's very generous of him," said Cyrille. "I promise I'll visit you there whenever I'm free."

"That really won't be necessary," said Snape. Upon seeing the disappointed look on the child's face, he sighed and added, "Of course you may come if you wish to." The girl smiled instantaneously.

"Of course I'd love to! I have to get home, but I'll see you tomorrow!" said the girl as she grinned and skipped happily back home.

* * *

The days passed by and their actions had become a routine. Everyday after school, Cyrille would visit Elias' house and find Snape working on his potions which she perceived as some kind of medicine. Snape would make sure that Cyrille was never there when magic was performed during his brewing. They grew accustomed to seeing each other all the time. During this time, Snape had come to care for the child, though he wouldn't ever admit to it even if he were subjected to the Cruciatus Curse for a multitude of times.

The morning of the last day of Snape's two-week stay came, and Cyrille desperately wanted to get this dreadful moment over with. Then, she could forget the past two weeks. She could forget how her life had significantly changed during those two weeks. She could forget how this man had let her feel appreciated for the first time in her life. Everything would go back to the way it was before the incident happened. Snape would leave and she would be left alone again. Oh but how she hated to be alone. She promised herself she wouldn't get attached. She told herself not to feel betrayed, but here it was haunting her all over again. She had to do this quickly or she wouldn't be able to bring herself to do it.

"Since it's your last day here... I'm giving you this, as promised," said Cyrille as she handed the wand to Snape. "Well... I have to get to school. You'd probably be gone by the time I return home so I just wanted to thank you for... everything, really. So... have a safe trip, Severus," she said with a small smile.

"Thank you, child... for keeping your promise," said Snape a little awkwardly. "I will be careful." With those last few words, Cyrille nodded and left for school, but not before giving the tall man a quick hug. Snape was left staring dumbstruck at the child's retreating figure. He felt a strange warmth in his heart.

* * *

Classes ended and Cyrille was on her way home. She reminded herself that she wouldn't be going to Elias' house today. She decided to take a little detour to the woods once again. She hadn't gone there once while Severus was still with her, but then again, she never had the reason to. Now, she was frustrated. She felt sad. She was angry with herself for being so weak. She needed to escape to her safe haven. She needed to be alone.

Just as she was about to turn, she heard voices. She heard the voices of men talking and laughing among themselves. Then, one of them turned his attention on her and smirked.

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here, boys," said a rather large looking boy. He was wearing the same uniform as Cyrille, so she assumed that the boys were from the same school as herself, only older. Much older.

"Who's that brat?" said another boy behind him with a nod to her direction.

"The girl? I've seen her going to that haunted house everyday after school. Seems like she's enjoying herself, the freak. Isn't that right?" he asked as he approached Cyrille's figure. Cyrille stood stock still. She wasn't one to back out of fights, but she knew how to pick them. She knew that she had no chance against these boys, so she thought of running. She was trying to think of the possibility of outrunning five ridiculously large boys.

"What do you want from me?" she asked as she tried to buy herself some more time.

"What could we possibly want from someone like you? We just hate the idea that freaks like you exist. What do you do there everyday? Summon spirits? Communicate with demons?"

"I am not a freak."

"Oh really? Is that why you haven't got any friends? Now that I think about it, you haven't got anything! Rumors say that your parents disappeared the night you were born. They were so ashamed of you that they left you!" said the boy with a triumphant smile.

"MY. PARENTS. NEVER. LEFT. ME." she said in a deadly tone. As soon as the words left her mouth, the ground shook. The wind blew harshly against their faces. The leaves rustled and the sky began to darken. The boys were visibly shaking in fear. Their legs could no longer support them and they crumbled to the floor in despair.

Just then, somebody pulled Cyrille and the magic surging in the place slowly, but not completely, died down. "What are you waiting for? GO!" said a familiar cold voice. The cowards ran as fast as they could, nearly tripping over each other in a pathetic attempt to escape.

The man wrapped his arms around Cyrille as he tried to calm her down with his soothing words. "It's going to be alright," the voice said. "They're gone. You're fine," the voice continued. Cyrille looked up and was momentarily surprised. At that moment, all the magic had gone. The wind stopped blowing; the ground was steady and the sky was back to its usual color.

"Severus?" she managed to whisper before darkness took over and her world disappeared.

* * *

Again, I'm sorry for keeping you guys waiting this long. But I'd like to say thanks for your everlasting support and for putting up with me! Please R&R! :)


	8. Chapter 8

Finally, an update! Read away! :)

* * *

**Chapter VIII**

"What have you gotten yourself into _this time_?" asked Snape exasperatedly as he cradled Cyrille's limp body protectively in his arms.

_Merlin! I'll never have any peace of mind. _Snape scowled and trudged down the stony path that led back to the main road while carrying the child like she were fragile. As he reached an intersection, he momentarily paused and weighed his options. Of course, he could just dump the brat in her house and let her aunt deal with her, but something told him that it would be unwise to take that course of action. He sighed. Having made his choice, Snape turned toward the familiar house that he had been living in during the past two weeks.

He entered the house and headed for the living room. While surveying the place, he carefully placed Cyrille on the couch. Feeling no other presence in the house, he guessed that Elias must be out collecting more ingredients for his potions. So, he took the liberty of rummaging through the old man's storage for the supplies that he needed for his purpose. His thoughts wandered back to the child now lying unconscious on the couch. If what happened earlier was indeed accidental magic, then he needed a potion to replenish the energy that the careless little brat lost and also one to minimize the damage dealt to her magical core.

_What I witnessed was not just any accidental magic. It was strong, strong enough to kill all those students earlier. It was most fortunate that I have yet to leave for my journey, or this child may have caused herself irreparable damage. She has most likely exhausted her magical core. Without proper care, she might lose her magic completely and turn into a Squib. _Collecting his thoughts, Snape focused on the task at hand.

He moved expertly as he began preparing the ingredients for his potions, cutting them up evenly and making the necessary measurements. He started the fire with a tap of his wand, and he gradually added the prepared ingredients to his cauldron at specific intervals. After half an hour, he left the potion to simmer and proceeded to making a second potion in a new cauldron.

* * *

Meanwhile, back in the living room, Cyrille was beginning to stir after being unconscious for more than an hour. _I feel so tired. What on earth is wrong with me? I don't remember anything. _She opened her eyes and slowly took in her surroundings. She recognized the place as Elias' living room. With difficulty, she tried to sit up but regretted it as soon as she did. She suddenly felt her world spin, making her feel consumed by her surroundings.

She tried to close her eyes to ease her dizziness, but it was counterproductive. The moment she closed her eyes, she saw a new picture imprinted at the back of her eyelids. She witnessed herself being crowded by large boys taunting her, saying things that hurt her. She remembered feeling anger, immense anger that was followed by strange occurrences. She remembered the shaking of the ground, the rustling of the leaves and the darkening of the sky. She remembered the frightened expressions of the boys, and then it was too much for her. She felt a splitting headache as the images flickered inside her mind all at once.

* * *

Snape was now bottling the potions in several different vials. While in the midst of doing so, Elias' owl came soaring in and started to fly annoyingly around him, as if trying to get his attention. He tried to drive the owl away to no avail. Instead, it tried to fly into his face, making Snape very displeased.

"What is your problem, owl?" asked Snape exasperatedly. The owl only hooted, much to Snape's annoyance. "I am in no mood to play. As you can see, my hands are full with these potions. If you wish to annoy someone, go find your master!" The owl shot him a look that seemed suspiciously like a glare. It hooted indignantly.

"For heaven's sake!" he snapped. The brown owl flew to the door that connects the kitchen to the living room and hooted urgently. Snape took the hint and followed the irritating creature. _If this turns out to be some kind of a play, I will make a hobby of plucking owl feathers for my potions research. _

As soon as he entered the living room, he knew that something was indeed wrong. The brat was awake and had her hands clutched tightly on her head, as if afraid that it would split into two if she let go. Feeling alarmed, Snape rushed to the girl's side and knelt by the couch.

With a flick of his wand, he cast a nonverbal Summoning Charm. He quickly tipped a vial of potion to her mouth to soothe her headache. The effect was instantaneous. He saw her muscles start to relax, and that was definitely a good sign. Next, he fed her the potion that would help her regain her energy. Lastly, he gave her the potion that would speed up the recovery of her magical core. All the while, Cyrille took everything in without any objection. She was beginning to feel better by the minute. At least, her head didn't feel like it was being hammered repeatedly anymore, and she was starting to regain some of her strength.

When she felt well enough to move again, she tilted her head up and came face to face with the man who saved her. "Severus," she whispered. Her eyes were still welling up with tears from the pain that she had just gone through. "You came back," she continued, disbelief evident in her tone.

"Obviously," replied the man halfheartedly, once again trying to conceal his real emotions behind his cold facade. During the past two weeks, he had come to care for the child. And although he didn't show it, in truth, he was relieved that she was alright.

"I don't understand. What happened?" asked Cyrille.

"Do you not remember what occurred earlier?" asked Snape with a hint of alarm in his voice.

"No, I remember. I just don't understand what happened," she said, shaking her head as if trying to clear it. "I just remember that it was pretty intense. Those boys... they were going to hurt me. They said something that made me angry. I don't mean just any kind of angry; I mean like really, really angry. I don't know if I just dreamed this up, but an earthquake happened right then. It was all very confusing, but I think I fainted right after... right after I saw you. It was you who saved me, wasn't it?" she asked a little hopefully.

"It was I who brought you out of that place, yes. However, it was not I who saved you. You, Miss Cromwell, saved yourself," said Snape, his expression turning serious. At that moment, Cyrille looked more confused than ever. Snape sighed and readied himself for a long conversation. "Miss Cromwell, the events which you speak of are real. Your mind did not conjure those images."

"Then the earthquake really happened?" asked the girl incredulously. "It's hard to believe that for once, the Fates are actually on my side. If that earthquake never occurred, something bad might have happened to me. But I still don't get it. What do you mean when you said that I saved myself?"

"Miss Cromwell, have you ever had anything unusual happen to you before?" asked Snape. Cyrille was a little surprised at the sudden change of topic, but she knew that Snape was not one to speak nonsense. If he wanted to change the topic, then he must have wanted to say something important. She thought about her answer before making her reply.

"Severus, my life in itself is unusual. Normal children don't really live like this," she said in what was almost a whisper. Her voice was tinged with sadness and longing. Snape chose to ignore this.

"I meant unusual in a different context. For instance, have you ever blown something up when your emotions were high, especially in a fit of anger? Have you perhaps experienced anything that you couldn't explain without violating the rules of logic?" he asked in the same tone he used in his classroom when he lectured about the properties of potion ingredients. Cyrille shook her head in confusion. His words weren't making much sense to her.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Severus. I've never experienced such things before."

"Miss Cromwell, are you absolutely certain about this? Think harder. There must have been something."

"Why are you suddenly asking me about this?"

"Just answer my question." Cyrille once again shook her head.

"No, I've never – " she paused as a thought suddenly occurred to her. Good heavens, how could she have forgotten? The answer was right in front of her. She suddenly remembered the strange kick she felt from the time she had wandered into the woods. She remembered everything that happened from when she had accidentally found the Shack to how she had unknowingly created a Portkey that got them out of that place. "I remember," she suddenly said. "When you asked me about the time that I found you in that strange place, I told you that I felt a strange feeling in my stomach, and I ended up finding you."

"Yes, that was certainly beyond normal, but it hardly had anything to do with you. You did not will yourself to be transported to that place."

"No, you don't understand. I... I may have left out certain details about that time," she said as she bit her lip. She suddenly felt guilty for not telling Snape the entire truth.

"Do continue," said Snape with a hint of anger. How dare the child try and hide something that important from him. Cyrille relayed the entire event to him, this time remembering to include every detail. When she was done speaking, Snape did not know what to feel. He wanted to scold the child for being such an idiot, but at the same time, he wanted to comfort her because he somehow understood why she did it. In the end, he chose to keep his head and speak to the child calmly.

"Miss Cromwell, do you believe in magic?"

"Not really, no."

"Then how would you explain what you just confessed to me?"

"I don't know!" At this point, Cyrille was starting to get agitated. "Weren't _you _the one who told me that what happened to me was perfectly normal, that it was purely adrenaline that caused it?" she challenged.

"I only said that to calm you down at that time! I certainly did not want to deal with a child who thought herself crazy."

"So you lied,"

"You didn't really believe me then, did you? If you had, you wouldn't have brought it up today when I asked you about any strange occurrences in your life. Besides, you weren't entirely truthful to me either."

"Fine! So now we're even," said the girl with a huff.

"Yes. We are, as you put it, even. However, you fail to answer my question. How would you explain what happened to you that time you found me?" asked the man persistently. For a naturally impatient man, he was certainly doing his best.

"I told you I don't know! What exactly is the point of all this?"

"Would you at least try to tell me what exactly is going through your mind with regard to that occurrence?" he added lazily. Cyrille pondered momentarily.

"I... I don't know. I think I may have done something, but I don't know what. Or how," she admitted. Snape merely nodded as he had already expected this.

"Then what does that tell you?"

"Are you actually insinuating that magic is behind this?" she asked disbelievingly. "It tells me absolutely nothing!"

"You are intentionally being daft! It tells you that you are capable of doing these unexplainable things!" he snapped. Now his patience was wearing thin.

"So what?"

"Are you completely incapable of putting two and two together? You asked me earlier what I meant when I said that you saved yourself. After this line of conversation, has it still not occurred to you that you might have caused what you perceived to be an earthquake?"

"That doesn't make any sense. It's completely impossible!"

"When exactly did the so-called earthquake happen? Did it not occur right after you felt a tremendous amount of emotion, specifically anger and perhaps some hurt?"

"Severus, you can't possibly mean that. How could I have done something like that?" asked Cyrille desperately. Snape momentarily paused before giving the girl his reply.

"You were capable of such a feat because, Miss Cromwell, you are a witch."

* * *

A/N: Another chapter done. Yay me! Anyway, let me know what you think! I would appreciate suggestions, if you have any. ;)


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter IX**

"A witch. You're actually telling me that I'm a witch? Severus, I think you may have hit your head harder than I thought that day I found you," said Cyrille seriously.

"Believe what you want, Miss Cromwell. However, I am fairly certain that a part of you acknowledges my words to be true," said Snape.

"Alright. Let's say that I believe you," said the girl. Snape glared at her. So the child was still doubtful. Did she think him capable of spouting such silly lies? "What now? I mean, I'm a witch. That's great, but what do you want me to do about it?"

Snape sighed. The child was obviously in denial. "If you truly acknowledge what you are then you should start working on controlling your magic lest you accidentally kill someone with your temper."

"Control my magic," Cyrille repeated mockingly. "What do you want me to do? Start waving wands and chanting spells? Brew potions in overly large cauldrons?" Cyrille's eyes momentarily widened as realization dawned on her. "Holy crap!"

"Language!" he chastised. "Dear Merlin, what is it now?"

"You! You're... You're a..." _What was the male counterpart of a witch? "_You're a warlock!" Snape rolled his eyes.

"I believe I am a wizard, not a warlock," he said. _Well this should be interesting. She came to terms with reality on her own. Perhaps this isn't as hopeless as I thought it to be. _"Do continue with what you were saying."

"But then... You mean to tell me that magic exists?"

"I have been trying to tell you that for the past hour!"

"But... how?"

"I do not hold the answer to that. It is just the way things are. You'd best accept it and embrace it for it is a part of you. Besides, you should have already known this to a certain degree."

"How on earth was I supposed to _know _that? Until this day, the idea never even crossed my mind!"

"Then how on earth did you rationalize any magical mishaps you've had in the past?" asked Snape incredulously.

"Well, when I _magically _got us out of that place, I sort of attributed it to stress. I thought I wasn't thinking clearly enough," said the girl logically.

"You are telling me that every time something strange happens to you, you attribute it to stress?" asked the man, his voice tinged with sarcasm.

"Severus, with the exception of today, I've never had anything strange happen to me before."

"What about before my appearance? When you were much younger, did anything happen then?" he asked.

"I told you, no. Never! That's why the idea that magic exists never crossed my mind!" argued Cyrille hotly. Why couldn't the man just believe her?

_This is indeed strange. Every child of magical origin _must_ have experienced accidental magic at least once, regardless of blood status. Growing children have more sensitive emotions. And even if she hasn't had any experience with accidental magic when she was younger, her magic should have started showing a few years back. Is she a late bloomer? But she's already ten years old! Curious. _Snape looked pensive. After what seemed like forever, he responded.

"Miss Cromwell, I believe a meeting with your aunt is in order." Cyrille's eyes widened.

"What? Why would you want to talk to my aunt?" she asked frantically.

"Calm down. Don't you think she needs to be informed of your new... predicament?"

"No, there's really no need for that! What can she do anyway? She'd just think that we've gone bonkers or something." Snape gave an exhausted sigh. Why was it so hard to deal with this child?

"Miss Cromwell, she is your guardian. She should know about this. I understand that you are a bit confused at the moment but you must understand. She would be able to help you deal with this," said the man rationally.

"She won't. Trust me, she won't. She doesn't really care about me. Severus, please. I can handle this on my own," whispered the girl almost pleadingly.

"No. I am going to speak to her about this. There are many things to be discussed, especially regarding your much needed magical education. Think of the perils of not being able to control your magic properly!"

"Magical education?"

"Yes, there are schools for witches and wizards to learn magic. In fact, I used to teach in a magical school once. It is much like a boarding school."

"Send me away to a boarding school? Oh she'd love that," she said with a hint of bitterness. Snape thought it odd that the girl was outright speaking negatively of her aunt. He was vaguely aware that the child was not overly fond of her guardian because of the way she tried to steer clear of any conversation that involved her personal life, but this was the first time that Cyrille had actually spoken of it on her own accord.

"Is something the matter, Miss Cromwell? Why do you seem so intent on keeping me away from your aunt?"

"I'm not! Look, if you want to talk to her, go ahead. I've already told you that she won't care and she'd just ridicule you. If you still want to do it, be my guest. But don't say I didn't warn you," said Cyrille. She decided to walk out on Snape in favor of some fresh air outside.

_Her manners are absolutely abysmal. _Snape was not particularly happy with the child's attitude, but he had more important things to deal with at the moment. Perhaps he would tell her off later when he had things settled. At the moment, they were both angry, and holding a conversation in the state they were in would certainly be counterproductive.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Snape stood and readied himself for another long day as he set out for his destination: the brat's house.

* * *

As soon as Snape arrived at the front door of Cyrille's house, he wasted no time. He cast a quick _Homenum Revelio _to see if there was anyone in the house at the moment. The spell returned the presence of one person, and Snape concluded that the said person must be Cyrille's guardian since it was highly unlikely that the girl would return home after a fit of anger. Knowing her, she must have gone back to the woods for comfort. This was a habit of hers that he wanted to break. Bottling up emotions was probably one of the worst things that someone could do, and he of all people should know that. If the child was upset, what she needed was to confide in someone, not isolate herself from others.

Of course, he understood how difficult it was to do that as he himself still experienced the same problem. However, he did not want the child to end up like him, cold and bitter. He made a mental note to confront the child about this in the future.

In the mean time, Snape focused on the task at hand. He walked to the front door and rang the doorbell once. When there was no response, he rang it again, this time holding it a little longer than the first time. When the door did not spring open, he resisted the urge to just barge in and invite himself into the house. He gathered all the patience he had in his system and tried the doorbell once more. If there was still no response, he would ring the doorbell repeatedly until the girl's aunt decided to show herself. He did not care that this gesture would be considered as rude, he just wanted to accomplish what he had come for.

He glowered at the door as he waited. When it thankfully opened, his scowl deepened further, for the figure that welcomed him did not look welcoming at all. Snape came face to face with a young girl, probably in her late twenties, who looked like she had just fallen off the bed and slept on the floor. She had also come down barefooted and was looking disconcerted. Her hair was disheveled and her clothes were too fashionable for his taste. She looked like she had just come home from a wild party, but this was not what bothered Snape. What caught his attention was her scent; the woman reeked of alcohol.

_Her guardian is an alcoholic? How can this woman be a suitable guardian? Merlin, no wonder the brat doesn't approve of her. Completely irresponsible. _"Uhm, hello? You rang?" said the woman with a look of annoyance.

"Ah yes. I apologize for interrupting your slumber, but I'm here to discuss some matters regarding your ward." The woman raised an eyebrow. "I am a professor at her school," he lied smoothly.

"What about her?" asked the woman.

"Do you wish to hold this conversation by the door? This can be rather long," said Snape in his usual cold tone. The woman looked uncertain, but she stepped aside to let the man in. Without waiting to be asked to, Snape went straight to the living room and sat on the couch. The woman took the seat opposite him.

"Do you know where Cyrille is?" asked Snape. He didn't know why he had used the brat's given name, but it seemed appropriate for the situation.

"She's probably upstairs," she said with a noncommittal shrug. "Or in school. She could be hanging out with her friends, after all. Why do you ask?" Snape looked skeptic. In the two weeks that he had known the brat, never had he seen any of these so-called friends of hers.

"You mean to tell me that you are unaware of where she is?" asked Snape. The woman rolled her eyes.

"For heaven's sake! She's eleven years old. She can handle herself. She doesn't need me to look after her every hour of the day!"

"No, she doesn't. In fact, you've been very absent in her life. And for your information, madame, she is ten, not eleven. Perhaps you'd know if you paid even the slightest attention to her."

"Ten or eleven, what does it matter? It doesn't really make a difference. Could you hurry up and tell me what this is about?" asked the woman in an impatient tone.

"I came here to tell you about something that has happened recently with your ward."

"Did she get herself into trouble or something? Cause I'm not the discipline type of person. I'm sure you guys can handle it."

"No, nothing like that has happened! In fact, she hasn't been troublesome at all. Are you certain that you are Cyrille's guardian? Because it certainly seems like you don't know the first thing about her. And it would seem to me like you are an irresponsible guardian. Should you even be drunk in the presence of a child?"

"Who are you to tell me what I should and shouldn't do? I am old enough to decide that for myself. What right do you have to barge in here and criticize the way I take care of my ward?" asked the woman evenly.

"_Take care _of her? Is that what you've been doing?"

"Yes, and she's lucky I put up with her. If I weren't such a good soul, I'd have sent her away a long time ago. Then I could live my life peacefully, but that wasn't what I did. I accepted her even if we're not blood related, because she's still my cousin's daughter. What kind of a person would I be if I left her homeless? I may not like her, but I'm not cruel enough to leave a child to starve." _Not blood related?_

"If you accepted the responsibility then you should've lived up to it. Don't do things halfway!"

"She should be thankful I didn't go through with sending her to an orphanage!"

"You told her that you'd send her to an _orphanage_?" he asked in fury. _And she has the nerve to tell me that she's not cruel? _

"She begged me not to. She said she'd stay out of my way and let me live my life, so I conceded."

"Perhaps it was a mistake for me to have come here," whispered Snape in fury.

"Look, I'm not a parental figure. The most I could do is let her stay in this house. You can't expect me to do more than that, I'm not ready. If you want to exercise control over her, go ahead. You deal with her. I give you full consent," she said.

Snape was now beyond furious. The woman obviously didn't care what happened to her ward. She barely knew him, yet she was giving him full consent to deal with her? Didn't she care if he hurt her? He felt more enraged by the minute.

"Cyrille deserves more than this. She deserves more than you," said Snape as he stepped closer to the woman with every word. By the last word, he was only inches from the woman's face. She gasped with surprise and fear. Snape's infuriated face was enough to send Voldemort into hiding. Just then, he heard the door spring open.

"What's going on here?" asked a voice shakily. The two individuals' faces abruptly turned toward the source of this voice. "Severus?"

"Cyrille, what is the meaning of this?" asked her aunt furiously. "Why is this man suddenly insulting me? Did you ask him to come here?" Cyrille's eyes widened in shock.

"Aunt Judith, I didn't! I swear. I'm sorry he's bothering you," said the girl in a small voice. For the first time in years, she felt frightened of her aunt. She remembered that cold night when she had disregarded her pride and begged her aunt to let her stay in the house. She didn't want to be sent away like that again.

"Do not get the child involved in this matter! She did not ask me to come here. I came here on my own accord," said Snape. He suddenly felt a tug on his sleeve. He turned and saw Cyrille, an almost pleading look in her eyes.

"Severus, please! Just leave," whispered the girl desperately. Snape stepped away from the girl's aunt and crossed his arms. He suddenly felt bad for his actions. Harassing a woman in front of a child wasn't his thing, even if the woman was as infuriating as this one.

"I apologize for harassing you, madame."

"I could have you arrested for that!"

"You may do as you wish, madame. However, I would like to repeat that none of this was the child's fault. She clearly told me to stay away from you, yet I did not listen." said Snape calmly. It pained him to apologize, but he did it for the brat's sake. If not, the horrid woman might take her anger out on the child. As he finished his statement, the woman glared at her ward. She grabbed the child's arm violently, and Cyrille's face clearly showed that she was in pain.

"You knew about this? You knew that he was coming here?" she asked, still not letting go of Cyrille's arm. Snape forcefully grabbed the woman's wrist, making her release her hold on the girl.

"Don't. You. Dare. Lift. A. Finger. On. Her." said the man furiously, enunciating each syllable with clarity. He turned to the girl and spoke more calmly. "Miss Cromwell, go upstairs and pack your things. I will remove you from this house. This _woman _is not a suitable guardian." Cyrille looked a bit uncertain. She was suddenly frightened of this man, but she was not afraid for herself. She knew the man would never hurt her. She was frightened for her aunt's sake because the man looked murderous. This was a Snape that she had never met before.

"Severus..."

"Are you deaf? I said go!" At this, Cyrille quickly moved and did as she was asked.

"You can't take her away, it's kidnap," the woman pointed out with a hint of alarm.

"So now you suddenly care about her?" said Snape in a low voice.

"You can't do this! I'll call the authorities!"

"Go ahead, madame. I'd like to see you try," he said as he tightened his grip on the woman's wrist.

"What do you really want?" she asked tearfully.

"I want nothing from you, woman. I just want to ensure that you never hurt her again. She deserves so much more than this. I'm sure her parents would agree with me on this."

"I did not ask for her to come into my life! You can't hold me responsible for this!"

"Your responsibility to her started the moment you accepted her into your household! You cannot let her suffer just because of your refusal to accept your new life as a responsible adult!"

"I do not want to be a responsible adult! Don't you think I deserve a chance to enjoy my years of being young and single?"

"Not when you have a child in your hands! You could have balanced your time for both yourself and the girl. You need not set her aside like this. How do you think she feels about everything?"

"I don't need to take any of this crap from you! If I needed advice I would've gone to a professional," she yelled. "If you want to take her, go ahead. She's not a loss and I'll be better off without her. Take her and leave. See if I care," she said as she stalked off.

* * *

Back in her room, Cyrille heard every word of the argument ongoing downstairs. She was surprised when she felt something warm dripping down her face. It seemed like she was crying. Just then, she heard a door slam upstairs. She figured that her aunt must have sought comfort in her own room as well. She sat helplessly on the bed and continued crying as she thought of everything that had gone on earlier.

She wasn't quite sure why she was crying. Perhaps it was because she heard her aunt acknowledge for the first time the fact that she didn't want her, and even though she was already aware of this, it still hurt to hear her say it aloud; or perhaps it was because Snape fought for her and protected her throughout the entire mess; or perhaps it was just the weight of it all crashing down on her all at once.

She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn't notice Snape enter the room until he spoke. "I thought I told you to pack?" he said lightly. Cyrille looked up wide-eyed and immediately started wiping her tears with the back of her hands. She gave Snape a half smile and started busying herself with packing, although she wasn't really accomplishing anything. Her hands were trembling, so she found it hard to fold any of her clothes properly. Upon seeing this, Snape took pity on the child. He sighed and put his hand on top of Cyrille's to stop her from what she was doing. Cyrille looked up at him questioningly and it was all he could do not to melt.

He pulled Cyrille into a warm embrace and the girl lost whatever control she had over her emotions. For the first time in years, she truly cried. She cried her heart out, emptying the sadness and pain that she managed to suppress through the years. She let her emotions overtake her, setting aside her pride and dignity in exchange for the comfort that she derived from this normally cold man. She sobbed until the tears would no longer come out, until her breath started to hitch. All the while, the man was rubbing a soothing hand on her back while the other hand kept her locked in a firm embrace.

"Better?" asked Snape when the girl had finally stopped shaking. Cyrille nodded shortly, avoiding Snape's eyes as she did so. She was clearly embarrassed for acting like such a baby, or at least that was what she thought she had been like. Snape tilted her chin up and gently guided her so that she was looking straight at him.

"There is nothing shameful about crying, child. I will never ridicule you. Trust me on this," he said gently. The girl nodded and offered him a small smile.

"Thanks," she whispered.

"I only did what I believed to be right, Miss Cromwell. Now, enough of this incessant drama. Shall we pack your things then?" he asked. The girl couldn't help but smile.

On any other occasion, Snape would have insisted on manually packing up things. However, he deemed this situation as special. He wanted the child to cheer up, and no child could resist magic. Also, he didn't want the girl's perception of magic to be negative. After all, the last time the child got acquainted with magic, she had nearly killed a bunch of students. And the time before that, she had been whisked away by a Portkey to an unknown place.

He took out his wand and the girl stared with awe. This was the first time she was seeing it for what it was – a magic wand, not a length of wood. He gave it an exaggerated flick solely for the girl's entertainment and the things in the room started flying around and landing in a neat pile in Cyrille's bag. The clothes had folded and stacked themselves in a neat layer, and her other things also did the same. When everything was in the bag, it shut itself and everything was once again motionless.

"Magic... It really exists, doesn't it?" asked the girl in awe. Snape nodded.

"Very soon, you will be learning how to do these things," he said. "However, it is important to remember that one should not be completely dependent on magic. It may be fascinating, but it may also be dangerous once misused. Many have gone astray because of the lure of power," he added darkly.

"I won't let it happen. You can count on it," said Cyrille earnestly.

"And I would stop you before you go astray, although I doubt that it would happen. Besides, that is why I am here – to guide you."

"Are you going to be my new guardian, then?" she asked a little hopefully.

"Do I have any other choice?" asked Snape. Cyrille gave an exaggerated sigh.

"I suppose I'm going to be stuck with the bossy monster for a while."

"No, you're stuck with the monster for a lifetime, whether you like it or not," said Snape. The girl was inwardly touched that the man would want to be with her forever, but she didn't say anything. She was just secretly thankful for the past two weeks, those life changing two weeks.

"Are you ready to leave?" he asked. The girl nodded. "Then I am going to introduce you to a new mode of transportation. While it may be uncomfortable, it is convenient. Let me take care of your things. Just hold my arm," he said.

Cyrille held on tightly and shut her eyes as she felt the magic coming. The last thing she could remember was the sensation of being squashed into a tight tube. When she opened her eyes again, she found herself in a foreign place. The only thing that felt familiar to her was the presence of the man beside her, but that alone was enough to soothe her.

* * *

A/N: This is the longest chapter I've done for this story. Hope you liked it! :) Let me know what you think!


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter X**

"Well? Have you finally lost your tongue, Miss Cromwell?" asked Snape when he noticed that the girl was quite silent upon their arrival. She looked up with a dazed expression on her face and blinked stupidly in response to the question. For a moment, he was afraid that he had truly shocked the girl into senselessness when she suddenly spoke.

"Remind me to never agree with taking that mode of transportation in the future," said the girl.

"I should hope that you wouldn't go Apparating alone until you are of age," said the man sternly. Cyrille rolled her eyes. _I wouldn't even if I did know how to. _Snape wanted to berate the girl for her appalling manners but let it go for now. That was a thing for another time, and he would certainly have to teach the brat not to roll her eyes at him.

"So where are we?" asked Cyrille. They were standing in front of a relatively large house, although it was small in comparison to where the girl used to live. The house emanated a strange kind of darkness but perhaps it was because the place was simply void of any other residents.

"This is where I used to reside," said the man with a guarded expression. "I must warn you, I haven't been here in a while. I want you to stay behind me. And don't go running off where I can't see you." Wand in hand, Snape entered the house with the girl traipsing behind him.

Once inside, Snape uttered a _Lumos_ and the room was suddenly visible by the light of his wand. Cyrille, who was careful to follow her guardian's instructions, stared at the man in awe. As soon as she got over it, she made a quick glance at the place. She could tell that the house had not been inhabited in a while as she could see cobwebs on some of the furniture. She seriously doubted that the man would leave any place let alone his house in that state if it were still in use. The sudden creaking of the floorboards made her jump and Snape looked at her in amusement, allowing a smirk to show on his face. She glared at him to cover her embarrassment.

"Stay here while I check the rest of the house. I have to make sure that it is fit for humans to live in. Do not touch anything," said Snape pointedly. He lit several candles in the room before he went away so that the child wouldn't be left alone in the dark. He knew how some children had an unreasonable fear of the dark and he wasn't in the mood for comforting anyone at the moment.

Once he was alone, the first thing he did was to check if the wards and other protective spells were still in place. After years of being a spy, he had become somewhat paranoid but he always believed that it was better to be safe than sorry. He took this chance to reapply some of the protective spells in the house that might have begun to fade. Satisfied with his accomplishments, he proceeded to casting simple cleaning spells in all of the rooms. He also applied a light freshening charm to get rid of the smell that old houses typically have.

Having finished with the cleaning, he gave the rooms a once over, making sure that there were no dark artifacts left lying around. With a child in the house, he had to be extra careful. Any item that he deemed inappropriate was quickly sent to the attic which he would make sure to lock. He was also certain that some of the books in the study were not to be read by children, but he would deal with that tomorrow. He hardly had the time to inspect his books one by one. To be safe, he locked the doors for all the rooms save the master's bedroom which he would be using, the spare bedroom which he would let Cyrille use for the time being, and the bathroom.

Pleased with having carried out the necessary tasks, Snape returned to the living room to find the girl sitting quietly, absently fumbling with her clothes out of boredom. Not wanting to scare the child again, he made the sound of his footsteps deliberately loud to alert her that he was approaching. At this, the girl looked up and beamed at him. He responded by arching his eyebrow.

"I presume that the condition of the house is now up to your standards?" asked Cyrille in an abnormally deep voice. To Snape's horror, the girl was trying to mimic him. He shot her a death glare.

"You insolent brat. I do not speak like that. I have half a mind to ground you indefinitely for that."

"You wouldn't!" said Cyrille in mock horror.

"Would you like to try me?" Cyrille shook her head and instantly sobered. She wasn't about to risk her freedom on the first day of her new life. "I thought so. Now if you're done being cheeky, why don't you follow me," said the man as he led the way to the spare bedroom that he had just cleaned out.

"Make do with this room for the time being. Perhaps tomorrow, I shall help you redecorate the room to something more tolerable. I trust that you will not go wandering about the house while I'm asleep," he said, arching an eyebrow to ask for confirmation. When the girl nodded, he continued his monologue. "Of course, you may use the bathroom across this room. My quarters are over there should you need me," he finished as he gestured to the room adjacent to hers. He added a hesitant "good night" before he left for his own room and missed the small smile that had adorned the girl's face when he had done so.

The next morning, Snape had already been up and about by five a.m. and was busying himself with yesterday's unfinished tasks. Once he was done with everything, he proceeded to making breakfast which comprised of eggs and bacon as well as some toast. At around eight a.m., the brat came trudging into the kitchen, probably drawn to the breakfast table by the scrumptious smell of the food.

"Wash your hands," said Snape as he sat down on of the chairs. He watched the brat do as she was told and beckoned her to take the seat across him. "After breakfast, I should like to discuss some things with you," he added. Cyrille nodded and they both ate in silence.

After the meal, Snape flicked his wand and the dishes started piling up in the sink and worked on washing themselves, leaving Cyrille to stare blankly after them. After a few moments, she turned her attention back to Snape.

"As I said, there are a few things I would like to discuss. While you are under my care, you will abide by all my rules, no exceptions. Rest assured these rules are made for your own safety. Should you disobey me, I will be very displeased," he said as he waited for all this to sink in.

"This house holds many things that are dangerous, especially for children. Therefore, I must ask you to steer clear of certain places such as the attic. You will find the entrance locked, but if you try to open it, trust me I shall know. As for the other parts of this house, I give you the liberty to go anywhere with the exception of my lab. I trust you know why?" he asked.

"Because it contains dangerous substances?" asked Cyrille.

"I suppose you could say that," he said with a nod. "Some of my potions are highly volatile. I wouldn't want to see your body parts scattered in my house because of your ignorance." Cyrille frowned at that. "And don't go outside unless you have my permission. I think that's about everything I need you to know for now."

Cyrille nodded earnestly upon hearing the rules set by the man. They weren't unreasonable because they were all accounting for her safety. At least her new guardian actually cared about her welfare and she was determined to follow him.

"I think you should start getting acquainted with our world. I have some books that you might want to read for starters," said Snape. Cyrille agreed enthusiastically.

"I'd love to know more about magic!"

"Here. I'll try to find some other books, but for now you may read these," he said as he handed Cyrille a book entitled Hogwarts, A History and another entitled A Beginner's Guide to the Magical Community. The former would acquaint the girl to her future school. It wouldn't hurt to know something beforehand. The latter contained the essentials to the magical community and was written for the Muggle-born children.

"Hogwarts?"

"That's the name of the school I used to teach in. And that is most likely where you'll be studying in the near future." Cyrille smiled upon hearing this. She had never shown much inclination toward anything school related, but this time she was genuinely interested. She wanted to discover more about the world that she had just come to know about.

"Thanks, Severus. I'll read these well," said the girl with her smile still fully in place. She eagerly went to the living room and claimed the couch so that she could start reading. Snape felt a warm feeling spread through his chest upon seeing the child so happy.

While Cyrille was busy with her books, he took the liberty of redecorating the girl's room to make it a little more personalized. After all, letting her use the guest bedroom was inappropriate as she was more of a family member than a guest. To start off, Snape changed the walls to a light blue just as the brat's room had been back in her aunt's house. He added a study table with a desk lamp and a nice little bookshelf just beside it. He planned to give Cyrille all his first year books to read while he had not had the time to buy them for her. No ward of his was going to be an ignorant student.

Once he had done this, he retreated to his own room to start planning for his next course of action. He needed to find a way to return to society without completely shocking the entire Wizarding World.

Back in the living room, Cyrille was absorbed in her own little world as she pictured the stories in her mind. She was fascinated by the tales, but she was more enthralled upon seeing the moving pictures. She decided that she loved magic very much. After two hours of reading, she decided to take a short break.

Suddenly thirsty, she went to the kitchen for a glass of water. As she drank the water, her eyes fell upon something that she hadn't noticed earlier this morning, perhaps because it had just arrived a few moments ago. Snape seemed not to have noticed as well. On the breakfast table was a pile of what seemed like newspapers. Curiosity getting the better of her, she approached the pile and picked up the one on the top. It read "The Daily Prophet". It was indeed newspaper but not an ordinary one. Like her books, the images on the newspaper seemed to move.

Deciding that there was nothing interesting, she left but not before knocking over the entire pile and scattering them all over the floor. _He is going to kill me for making this mess. _With that thought in mind, she went back and stacked the papers rightfully back in place. As she reached the last few papers, she saw one headline that made her look back. "Harry Potter Claims the Innocence of Severus Snape" was flashing on the front page. The picture showed a young man with a lightning bolt scar standing on a podium giving some kind of a speech. Around him, dozens of cameras were flashing.

After reading the article, she was able to pick up that Snape had been a Death Eater, though she didn't know what that meant, but was apparently working as a spy. He had killed someone powerful and was being convicted by the entire Wizarding World, but this Harry Potter had testified to his innocence by showing the Ministry of Magic his memories of the events. The Ministry had no choice but to believe him because of the evidence and Severus Snape was now a hero in death.

_People think he's dead? Is that why he was hiding? _Cyrille had read enough to know what the Ministry of Magic was. From the looks of it, not many were convinced of Snape's innocence even if he was declared clear of all charges. It seems like they were only agreeing because of the lack of evidence to prove otherwise. She was not happy about this.

Determined to know more about what was happening, she continued reading the other papers. After going through the entire stack, she had read enough of Death Eaters to know that they were truly cruel animals. She read about the Muggle raids, about the torture and the killings. She read about the megalomaniac named Voldemort whose name was feared so much that it was never mentioned outright. She read about stupid Pureblood ideals and their wish to rid the world of Muggle-borns. After everything, she didn't think that magic was all that good after all. She then remembered what Severus had told her about the lure of dark magic and she suddenly understood. She vowed never to get swayed to the other side.

She never noticed how strongly she felt about the matter, but she was clutching the paper so hard her hand began to tremble. That was how Snape had found her. He snatched the paper from her hands and the girl was momentarily shocked. Snape scanned the contents of the paper and was revolted by what he had read. Incidentally, the paper he snatched had a detailed account of the horrors of Death Eater activities.

He frowned at the article and replaced it on the table. He would determine why the papers were there at a later time. Now, he had a brat to deal with and she was probably shocked by what she had just read.

"Those articles were not meant for your eyes," said the man softly.

"You were a spy," said the girl with wide eyes. Snape was momentarily surprised but he recovered quickly.

"I always knew that you were not a complete idiot so I suppose it's about time that you found out that I have some kind of a past," he stopped to look at the girl and make sure that she was taking all of this in. "I am not a nice man, Miss Cromwell. I've done horrible things in the past." Cyrille shook her head.

"But you're innocent! The papers said so!" she said indignantly. Snape was confused when the girl all but shoved the article in his face. After quickly scanning it, he did not know what to feel. _So Potter did have enough sense to clear my name. Nevertheless, the girl should not have foolish notions about my innocence._

"I did kill Albus. I am only innocent because he himself asked me to do it. And you said so yourself that I was a spy. How did you think I was able to remain a spy for so long? I have done horrible things. I am not proud of this, but it is the truth," he said solemnly. He could see that the girl was confused and in denial. He felt a surge of sympathy for her. He shouldn't have been rash that night. He should've thought more about it. Now the girl had nowhere to go and it was all his fault. It was highly unlikely that she would want to stay with him after this, but he felt like he owed her an explanation. So, he launched into a story retelling her about his days as a spy and how he came to be one.

He began with that fateful day when he overheard Trelawney's prophecy. He told her about his horrid childhood with James Potter and his gang, how it sparked his hatred for his life and for the world. He told her about the years at Hogwarts teaching the spawn of James Potter, how he had an unreasonable hatred of him. He told her about his vow to protect the child and his service as a spy to redeem himself for his past mistakes. He ended the tale with his supposed death in the Shack when Nagini had bitten him and he had given his memories to Potter shortly after. All the while, the child silently took everything in without interjecting.

When he fell silent, he saw that the girl was trembling slightly. Mistaking it for disgust and anger against him, he closed his eyes and waited for judgment. He was taken aback when he felt a hand on his, conveying a silent message of understanding.

"It must have been hard for you. You were so alone," said the girl sadly. Snape didn't feel like he deserved this. What he did deserve was this girl's hatred and disgust, not her understanding. Sometimes, he was surprised at how mature children could get when they wanted to be. He gave the girl one of his rare smiles and she hugged him in return. At first he was stiff upon receiving the physical contact he was so unused to, but after a while he softened and returned the hug.

"If you're done with this incessant drama, can we have lunch now? I'm hungry," said the girl with a mischievous smile. She ducked as she saw a horde of pillows being flung her way but allowed a real smile to grace her face. This was the family she had always dreamed of. Well, maybe it wasn't exactly like this, but she was willing to go with this one.

As another pillow made its way to her face, her accidental magic kicked in and made it explode. She was quite surprised to see Snape covered in cotton, angrily approaching her.

"We're going to have to do something about that," he said seriously.

* * *

A/N: I know this chapter isn't all that entertaining but I had to get the talk out of the way. Hopefully, next chapter would be better. Perhaps you'd start seeing some more familiar characters then. ;) Anyway, thanks for reading! Please review! :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter XI**

Lunch was a quiet affair as Cyrille tried to assess her guardian's temper. After her bout of accidental magic, the man seemed rather short on temper. She kept on shooting him furtive glances as they made their way through lunch, but Snape seemed to be deep in thought as he was glaring at thin air. She tried to catch his attention several times by coughing discreetly or clearing her throat, and at one point Snape got irritated and finally spoke up.

"Do you have some kind of a disease, Miss Cromwell?" he asked scathingly.

"No, I was just trying to see when you'd notice me," said Cyrille, her eyes filled with glee as she remembered the hilarious situation only a few moments ago. The man shot her a glare and she schooled her expression into indifference, although she barely succeeded. She supposed the man hated to be made to look like a fool, but she couldn't help it. It was simply too funny. "What are you thinking about?" she asked to steer the conversation to a safer topic.

"I wasn't aware that I was required to share my thoughts with you," he said. Then, noticing the frown on the girl's face, he sighed and continued. "I was merely thinking about your peculiar situation."

"What's so peculiar about me?"

"Your experiences with accidental magic were rather unusual. Children normally experience accidental magic as early as two, but you said that you've never experienced it until recently."

"Does that mean something's wrong with me?" she asked a little worriedly.

"Do not worry yourself over these things. I will not let any harm come to you."

"I know. I just wish that I would learn to control my magic already! Don't you think I'm too old for this accidental magic business?"

"Wizards older than yourself still experience accidental magic from time to time, although not as often. Believe me, this is perfectly normal. Do not worry; you will definitely learn control once you get a better hold of your magic."

"But what if it happens again? What if I get mad and you're not there to help me get over my temper? I'd probably end up killing someone!"

"Which is why you should control your temper!" he snapped at her. "However, I do not think that it is likely to occur in the future. Of course, you are still bound to cause accidents but they will no longer have the same effect. Accidental magic is normally never that strong. I suppose in your case, since it was your first time to experience this, all of the magic that you have somehow suppressed through the years have surfaced at once and it resulted in a burst of raw power," he said.

"I guess that makes sense. I suppose that I was worried because everything's just so new to me. I would really hate to cause any unnecessary harm to others," said the girl seriously.

"You have no need to fear magic, Miss Cromwell. I assure you that you will learn it in time. And soon, you will be so used to it that you would begin to think of it as something you naturally do," said Snape to placate his ward. She gave him a reassured smile.

After lunch, they both went back to their own rooms to rest. When Cyrille stepped into her room, she felt a little confused at first. She went back outside to see if she had perhaps entered the wrong room but decided that it was definitely hers. _Severus is being really considerate. I didn't mind how the room looked before, but this is definitely better. It feels so cozy. _She felt herself smiling like an idiot as she fell into the comforts of her bed.

* * *

"Miss Cromwell, I will be leaving tonight as I have some business to attend to. It is possible that I will return rather late and I expect you to be in bed by then," said the man sternly. The girl gave him a nod and he took that as a sign to continue. "Please do not do anything stupid to get yourself hurt because you will find that I will not have any sympathy for you should that happen. You will find yourself in a very unfortunate predicament instead. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Severus. Stop worrying, I'm not stupid!"

"We shall see about that," said Snape. He retrieved something silver from his pocket and handed it to the girl. It was a necklace with elegant inscriptions on it. "This will give you a means to contact me should anything unprecedented happen. Hold it and whisper my name and I will know that you need me. Use it _only _if there is an emergency."

_Severus is so paranoid. Honestly! Leaving me alone for one night won't kill me. I've been living alone in my aunt's house for ages and nothing's ever happened to me. _Outwardly, the girl merely showed a hint of annoyance at her guardian's fussing but nodded anyway.

Snape didn't know why he felt so worried about leaving the brat alone for one night. He wasn't used to feeling this way. Before, he never had to worry about anyone but himself and his priority was to keep himself alive long enough until the Dark Lord was defeated. But now, he actually had someone waiting for him to come home and it felt different. He rather liked this change. He supposed that this was how it felt like to be a parent.

"I shall take my leave then. Behave," said Snape as he stepped through the door. He heard the girl wish him a safe journey and he Disapparated with a pop.

* * *

He reappeared in a dark alley and moved silently to avoid drawing attention to himself. He cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and started scanning the area for his purpose. Once he had spotted his target, he followed the figure until they reached an old house. When the figure entered it, he quickly followed suit before the door would close in on him.

Snape watched as the figure removed its cloak to reveal an old woman looking tired from her journey. He lifted the charm from himself and made his presence known because he felt like he was intruding on the woman's privacy.

"Minerva," he said quietly. The woman jumped and instantly pointed her wand to his face. He remained still.

"Severus?" whispered the woman, her lips trembling as she tried to make sense of what was happening. "Is that really you?" she asked as she inched a few steps closer to the man. Then slowly, she lowered her wand and grabbed the man by his shoulders. "You're alive! You… You're really alive," she said disbelievingly, slightly shaking the man in the process.

"I would think that much was obvious," he said, feeling relief flooding through his entire system as he did so. "However, in the future it would be wise to interrogate your visitors further before you let your guard down, especially if they were suddenly back from the dead. There are still Death Eaters on the loose after all," said the man in all seriousness. The woman hit him lightly.

"How could anyone else perfect that character of yours?" asked the woman with a slight humor in her tone then her expression turned serious. "I never truly believed that you had died. There was no body to be found," she continued. "But how…? Potter told me, told everyone what had happened!"

"It is a long story, Minerva, a story for another time. Let us just say that I was rescued by a young girl. At the moment, I have more pressing concerns. I must be able to return to my life and I am in need of your help."

"Why I'd be glad to offer you what I can! I shall alert the rest of the staff the first thing in the morning as it is rather late now. I shall also inform the rest of the Order members about this ordeal."

"Thank you, Minerva. That would be of great help to me. I am forever in your debt."

"Don't be so formal with me, Severus! We've been colleagues for ages, but I do have one question. Why me? Of all the people…"

"You were the only one I trusted enough not to go hysterical at the sight of me," said Snape reasonably. The woman gave a soft chuckle. She had certainly missed the good old times.

"I can't believe Albus asked you to do that!" she said as their conversation turned into a sharing session between two people who had been through so much and still live to remember the horrors.

At half past midnight, Snape bid the woman farewell and returned to his house. Upon his arrival, his first thought was to check on Cyrille. He silently opened the door to the girl's bedroom and peeked inside. The girl was sprawled on the bed sleeping peacefully while her blanket was all tangled up and was barely covering her body. Snape found himself tucking the girl in and a small smile started playing on his lips. In the past, he would have been horrified by the thought of tucking someone into bed, but now he found it quite tolerable. He actually liked it if he were to be honest with himself. He took one last glance at his ward before he left for his own room.

Lying on his bed, he couldn't help but look back at the day's events. He felt the heaviness of his problems lift from his chest somehow at being able to talk to Minerva. Feeling somewhat peaceful, he drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, Snape woke up later than usual but was surprised upon entering the kitchen. Breakfast had already been served and Cyrille was sitting on one of the chairs patiently waiting for him to start.

He sat himself in his customary seat and spoke. "I thought I told you before that children shouldn't cook unsupervised?" he said with a hint of amusement.

"Well, you seemed tired and I didn't want to wake you. Besides, I'm fully capable of cooking simple meals."

"If I remember correctly, last time you burned your hand."

"That was your fault! You shouldn't have snuck up on me," said the girl defensively.

"It is not polite to blame other people for your own shortcomings," said the man. The girl glared at him before beginning to pile food in her plate and Snape also did the same.

In the midst of eating, Snape suddenly spoke. "I've been doing some thinking and I believe it is time for you to get your own wand." The girl suddenly looked up with interest.

"My own wand?" Snape nodded.

"Wands are personalized objects. It would be most efficient if you had one yourself. Besides, I believe it is time to start teaching you basics. This will help you lessen any incidents of accidental magic."

"That would be so awesome!" said the girl. Snape rolled his eyes at the brat's choice of words.

"We'll leave in an hour so finish your breakfast and busy yourself for the time being." Cyrille nodded and beamed at her guardian. Snape found this amusing. Even if his ward was more mature than children her age, she still had it in her to act childish and it was at times like this that her childish self began to surface.

One hour later, they were ready to leave for Diagon Alley. "I will be altering my looks for obvious reasons. Do not address me by my name. I think that for our purpose, 'sir' should suffice."

"Alright, sir," said Cyrille, testing the feel of the word on her tongue. She figured she could do that. Severus gave her an approving nod.

"Now, hold on to my arm. You know what's going to happen next," said Snape. Cyrille looked horrified by the thought of Apparating but held on to his arm anyway. Together, they Apparated to Diagon Alley.

Upon their arrival, Cyrille fell off-balance but her guardian steadied her with one hand while his other hand clutched his wand tightly. She flashed him a grateful smile. "Shall we proceed?" asked Snape in a voice that was not his own. Cyrille nodded.

Snape led the way while the girl followed obligingly. After a couple of turns, they reached their destination. There was a signboard hanging in front of the shop that read "Ollivander's Wand Shop".

"Ollivander is the name of the wandmaker. He is one of the best in the world," said the man. Cyrille felt her nervousness bubbling up inside her as they entered the shop.

They were welcomed by an odd old man who seemed to be appraising them from the moment they entered. "Welcome, welcome," he said. "I am Ollivander. Come to get a wand for the young witch?" he asked. Snape affirmed with a nod.

"Yes, I would like for Cyrille to have her own wand," he said. The wandmaker gave him a crooked smile.

"Ah, but of course. Come, come. Do not be nervous, child. You are about to find your partner in life." Cyrille took a tentative step closer, but her determination was evident in her eyes.

Ollivander seemed deep in thought. He suddenly pulled a box from one of the lower shelves and freed the wand inside it. He handed it to the girl. "Eight and a half inches, ebony, unicorn hair. Give it a flick, girl." Cyrille obliged and several boxes shot out of the shelves and went straight through the glass window. Cyrille was horrified, but the man seemed to think that this was normal.

"Perhaps not," he said as he pulled another box. "Seven inches, holly, dragon heartstring." This time, when Cyrille tried the wand the remaining glass windows completely shattered. The girl frowned.

"Not to worry, child. Some people spend hours here before they find the right wand, although you have to be the first one to wreck my shop with just two tries," he paused and chuckled. "You must be patient. Understand that the wand chooses its master, not the other way around. You will understand when you've found yours."

They continued with the same process and after twelve tries, the entire shop had been in shambles but Cyrille had yet to find the right one. The girl was clearly frustrated.

"You are obviously a rather unusual subject," said the man. "Perhaps..." he took another box from the upper shelves hoping that it would finally be the one. "This one is special. Nine inches, fir, phoenix feather."

Snape, who had been sitting idly by the side felt slightly alarmed by the mention of phoenix core. A wielder of any wand with a phoenix feather core was definitely destined for greatness. But if it meant putting his ward in danger in the process, then he was willing to forego this. He waited nervously for the outcome.

Cyrille gave the wand a flick and at first, nothing happened. A split second later, tiny sparks started flickering from the wand. Ollivander smiled and said, "It seems like it has chosen you!" Cyrille shook her head.

"I don't know... It feels sort of... odd." The man gave her a calculating look. "The wand hasn't fully accepted you yet, but it is giving you a chance to wield it."

"Can we try something else?" asked the girl. The man sighed but nodded anyway.

"Since the phoenix responded to you, I suppose I should try the rare ones for you. This one," he said as he pulled a box from the topmost shelf, "has not chosen anyone in decades. I have given up any hopes of selling it. But maybe, just maybe it will choose you." He handed the wand to the girl, holding it like it were the most fragile thing in the world. "Nine and a half inches, yew, dragon heartstring."

The moment the girl's fingers curled up on the wand, she knew that it had to be the one. The wand warmed up to her and she smiled. She gave the wand a small flick and all the damage earlier was instantly fixed. The boxes were replaced into their respective shelves and the shattered glasses had reformed on the windows. Ollivander beamed at the child.

"I knew there was something about you! That will be eight Galleons," he said. Snape stood and paid the wandmaker.

"I'll be damned if another wizard walked out with a phoenix feather core wand," said Snape. Ollivander laughed and accepted the gold. Just then, he laid eyes on Snape's wand which had been in his hand from the moment they entered.

As they were about to leave, Ollivander spoke. "I remember every wand I've ever sold. It is good to have you back, Mr. Snape. It seems like you have found someone special," he said as he eyed Cyrille. "Have a good day." Snape nodded in return and walked out of the shop with his ward.

* * *

A/N: Okay, here's another chapter. I'm sorry if it always takes me SO long to update. Anyway, I'd just like to thank all the readers, especially those who review. Your reviews are ever so encouraging and they keep me going. So a BIG THANK YOU to everyone! :) Merry Christmas!


	12. Chapter 12

Hello, everyone! I know I normally take weeks to update so while school hasn't started yet, I want to take the opportunity and write as much as I can. Here's the next chapter. Read away! Oh, and reviews would be appreciated, by the way. ;)

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**Chapter XII**

Snape and Cyrille had decided to dine at a nearby restaurant after their tiring experience at Ollivander's and were now just exiting the place.

"Thanks for the meal, sir. I'm stuffed," said Cyrille.

"There is no need to thank me for such things, Miss Cromwell. You make it sound like I barely feed you," said Snape. The girl laughed, suddenly realizing how foolish she had been acting.

"Sorry, I guess I'm just really happy right now."

"You had better be, I just spent more than ten Galleons on you today," said Snape, though not in an insulting manner. The girl smiled sheepishly when a sudden thought occurred to her.

"Are Galleons the standard currency for wizards?"

"Yes, in Britain it is. There are also Sickles and Knuts," said the man as he produced them from his pockets to show the girl. "There are 17 Sickles to a Galleon and 29 Knuts to a Sickle." She sighed.

"This is going to take a lot of getting used to."

"Do not worry yourself senseless. I will teach you everything you need to know," he said reassuringly. "You are not the only Muggle-born witch in the world. I assure you, my Muggle-born students were quick to adapt," he added. This seemed to make Cyrille feel better.

"Thanks," she said. After a moment, Snape spoke.

"I figured that since we're already here, I might as well take you around town." The girl felt excited about this. She wanted to go sightseeing but didn't want to bother Snape as he seemed like a busy man. But now that her guardian had offered, she certainly wouldn't refuse.

So began their journey in Diagon Alley. They entered different wizarding shops while Snape became some sort of tour guide. They passed through Quality Quidditch Supplies, Eeylops Owl Emporium, Flourish and Blotts, and even Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes where Snape had met the Weasley twin, George, whose ear he had damaged. Luckily, the redhead didn't recognize him due to his altered appearance. Instead, George Weasley seemed to have taken a liking to his ward and had given her free treats, telling her to come back with a sly wink and a mischievous smile.

Once they left the shop, Snape said, "I wouldn't eat that if I were you."

"Why not?" asked the girl with genuine curiosity. He smirked at her but didn't give her any answer. Cyrille decided to keep the treats in her pocket for the time being.

By late afternoon, Cyrille was beginning to feel tired. She was glad when Severus announced that it was time to go home after a last stop. "Since you've managed to follow my instructions for today, I believe a reward is in order," he said as they both entered Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. Snape ordered Fortescue's famous chocolate sundae for the brat and vanilla for himself. After Cyrille had finished what she claimed to be the best ice cream she had ever had, they returned home.

As soon as they arrived, the girl slumped down the couch and refused to move. "If you're tired, go take a nap in your room," he said, a little amused over the brat's antics.

"Too tired to move…"

"Would you like me to levitate you to your room?" asked the man sarcastically. He rolled his eyes when the girl showed interest. "Forget it, I am not about to indulge you with your childish desires."

"You were the one who suggested it! You really shouldn't go back on your word, you know."

"That was a question; a rhetorical one at that. Don't be a dunderhead."

"Fine, live like that. Deprive a child of her happiness."

"Stop being overly dramatic. Just a little more and you'll end up in Gryffindor, God forbid." Before Cyrille could ask what Gryffindor was as she had yet to read Hogwarts, A History, another voice spoke to both of their surprise.

"Severus Snape! How dare you insult Gryffindor house? And in front of a child too!" came the voice of Minerva McGonagall, now headmistress of Hogwarts.

"I thought you were supposed to be impartial to houses, being headmistress and all?" he asked. "And how on earth were you able to Floo-call me when my network is blocked?"

"Aren't you at least going to let me through?" asked the annoyed woman as only her head had come through.

"Of course, do welcome yourself to my humble abode," said the man, his voice once again tinged with sarcasm. Minerva rolled her eyes.

"To answer your question Severus, I am using Albus' Floo because I am well aware that he is the only one allowed through your network. And I _am _impartial to houses; I was just trying to save the dignity of one of the houses which you had incidentally been insulting." said the woman in a dignified manner. "Oh yes, and Albus says hi."

"Of course," said Snape, knowing full well that his short answers would infuriate the woman further. He had also completely ignored her last statement. As expected, the woman gave him a stern glare that made him feel like a student once again. He shrugged the strange feeling off as he remembered another presence in the room.

"Ah yes, Miss Cromwell, why don't you come and introduce yourself," he said. The girl showed surprise at being addressed so suddenly but recovered immediately. She removed herself from the couch and stood beside Snape.

"Hello, I'm Cyrille Cromwell," she said timidly. "Pleased to meet you," she added.

"Hello dear," said McGonagall in an almost motherly tone. "I am Minerva McGonagall, headmistress of Hogwarts." The girl's eyes widened when she heard this. She was standing in front of her future headmistress and she had just witnessed the childish bickering the elderly woman had with Severus. The woman continued her speech as though she noticed nothing. "Students normally address me as Professor McGonagall, though there is no need for such formalities when school isn't in session. Perhaps Aunt Minerva would do," she said with a kind smile. Snape nearly blanched. Whether it was because of the name or the smile, no one knew. The elderly woman scowled when she saw his reaction and he cleared his throat.

"Miss Cromwell, I think it would be wise to go back to your room for now. I would like to speak to Minerva alone," he said. Cyrille left after nodding to both adults, amazed at how naturally her guardian could act around the woman despite his normally closed-off character.

"So. When were you going to tell me about this girl?" asked McGonagall with a knowing look that annoyed the man.

"I already told you about her. I said it was a long story and all you needed to know was that I was rescued by a young girl," he said.

"I see. Well, it is good to see you somewhat happy, Severus. I'm glad you've found someone; Cyrille seems like a good child. You do deserve this, after everything that has happened."

"She is a noisy little brat, Minerva. She can be annoying when she wants to be and she talks back to me worse than all of my students combined," Snape growled. McGonagall identified this as his way of expressing fondness.

"It sounds like you care for her a lot. I daresay you love her," she said. The man looked irritated and was about to protest when the woman continued. "And if I remember correctly, Severus, not many of your students would dare talk back to you," she said reasonably. The man shot her a mild glare.

"So they don't, but you get my point. And I do not love her! I am merely… concerned for her welfare as I owe her a life debt."

"If you wish to put it that way," the woman conceded. "I did not come here to antagonize you. I came to talk to you regarding our conversation the previous day."

"And?" Snape urged her to continue, trying to conceal the feeling of nervousness that was beginning to surface. He wasn't entirely sure that this would work, after all.

"I wish to discuss the plan," she said. "Kingsley's plan, actually." Snape arched an eyebrow at this.

"I take it you've brought the news to the Order?"

"And the staff, yes. Filius nearly fainted," she said with a chuckle. Snape had a sneaking suspicion that her "nearly" had only been added for the sake of preserving the Charms professor's dignity but wisely chose not to comment on it. "But the others were fine; glad, even. I swear most of them had been on the verge of tears, although that was after the initial shock had worn off. It was no easy task telling them the news, mind you. Bombarding me with all these questions, you'd think I were speaking to a bunch of children!" she continued with a full scowl in place.

"Well, it isn't everyday that your colleague comes back from the dead," said Snape. The woman ignored him in favor of continuing her tale.

"As for the Order, well naturally there were a lot of surprised reactions. I may have told them that you were still recuperating because several of them wanted to see you upon hearing the news."

"You did the right thing, Minerva," he said. Then almost hesitating, he added, "Do they all…?" McGonagall nodded with a kind smile.

"All thanks to Potter. Molly is still a bit touchy about her son's lost ear but she wanted you to know that all is forgiven. It could've been much worse," she said, hinting to the other twin's untimely death. They both fell silent for a moment.

"Thank you for your help, Minerva," said Snape, being the first to recover.

"Nonsense, Severus! It's the least I could do after… everything. Now, I believe we are straying from our topic. As I was saying earlier, Kingsley has developed a plan," she said. Snape nodded and encouraged her to continue. "It wouldn't do good to… say… drop the bomb on the entire Wizarding World about your situation. So Kingsley has decided to go about this the long way. Through the help of our contact from the Prophet, we will slowly drop hints about your possible survival to get the people to start speculating. Perhaps a few public sightings in some of the smaller, less populated areas could help. If all goes well then in a few weeks' time, we may be able to stage your reappearance and tell them that you've fully recovered," she said. "That is, if all this is agreeable to you?" she asked, suddenly uncertain whether or not the man would agree.

"Of course I agree, Minerva. It is the only plan we have, but I must say that it is brilliant. How did you ever figure this out?" he asked perplexed.

"To be honest, we got the idea from an article in The Quibbler," she said and chuckled at the man's expression. He looked simply horrified. "There was an article there claiming that you were indeed alive, although the details are rather… unusual and I shall not even attempt to tell you about them. Of course, no one really bothers with The Quibbler. Don't tell Miss Lovegood I said that. But if we were to bring this matter to the Prophet, now that would be a different story," she added, seemingly satisfied with how things are going.

"I like the plan. However, I was not aware that we had a contact from the Prophet."

"Ah, yes. Well, we didn't, but let us leave this to Potter, Weasley, and Granger." Snape looked at her skeptically. "You would be proud of them, Severus! But that is their story to tell; one I am sure they'd be happy to share with you." Snape sincerely doubted that.

"Now, Severus, I believe I've been doing most of the talking here. I think it's your turn to share."

"What is there to share?" he asked though he already knew what he woman had meant. He was merely delaying the inevitable because the look on his colleague's face was one of a determined Gryffindor, and determined Gryffindors always got what they wanted.

"What else? The story of how young Cyrille saved you of course!" With a sigh, Snape began his tale from the point where he heard Cyrille talking to herself in the Shack. He supplied all the necessary details so that the annoying woman wouldn't go about questioning him later. He told her everything up until the time he took the girl away from her so-called guardian. Of course, he carefully omitted the embarrassing parts, particularly the ones that showed his concern, or – dare he even think it – fondness for the girl.

"So we'll be expecting one more brilliant witch this coming September then!" she said brightly as soon as Snape finished with his tale. "Which reminds me… do you intend to resume your duties, Severus?" The man looked a tad bit uncertain.

"Honestly, I haven't thought about it. I haven't thought about life after this whole bloody war," he said in a tone that made McGonagall's heart clench. _More like you didn't think you'd live through it._

"I'm not going to rush you so you might as well take your time with making your decisions. But I want you to know that the offer stands. We, that is, the rest of the staff including myself, would love to have you back," said the woman sincerely. Snape gave her a grateful nod. "Now, it is getting rather late and I have some arrangements to make so I must take my leave. Good day, Severus! Tell your ward that I will be looking forward to her attendance in Hogwarts this September."

"I will. Have a safe journey, Minerva," he said as he watched the headmistress step through the Floo. After a few moments of blissful silence, he decided to go check on the brat. It was never a good idea to leave children to their own devices for too long. Who knew what kind of trouble they could stir up?

After making his way through a flight of stairs, he knocked softly on the brat's door. When no reply came, he frowned and pushed the door open. He scowled. "Miss Cromwell, when someone knocks, you either permit him to enter or ask him to leave!" Cyrille, who was lying on her stomach while reading a book, looked up in surprise.

"Er… sorry. I didn't hear you knock," said the girl as she grinned sheepishly."Did Aunt Minerva leave already? She should've joined us for dinner."

"Do me a favor and never address her as _Aunt Minerva _in front of me. And yes, she already left. The headmistress is a busy person," said Snape, rather unnerved that the stern woman had suggested to be addressed in such a manner. The girl smiled widely. Perhaps she would start saying Aunt Minerva more often just to get a rise out of Severus. It was so worth it. Then, as if reading her thoughts, Snape's scowl deepened.

"Dinner is in half an hour," he said and made his way to the kitchen before his treacherous hands could strangle someone.

Less than half an hour later, Snape heard a loud scream that came from upstairs. Wand in hand, he rushed upstairs to where Cyrille was, completely abandoning his tasks in the kitchen. Fully expecting to confront an enemy, he was not prepared by the sight that had welcomed him. Sitting on the bed looking completely shocked was Cyrille. Everything seemed to be normal except there was smoke coming out of the brat's ears.

"You ate it, didn't you?" asked Snape as he sighed to cover up the laughter that was about to erupt from his throat.

"You could have warned me!" said Cyrille furiously.

"Need I refresh your memory, girl? I clearly told you not to eat it."

"But you didn't say why!"

"I thought you'd have enough sense to listen."

"I thought you were just being you!"

"Well, it's a pity, isn't it?"

"You are so – UGH!" Cyrille gave up any of her arguments. She knew she'd never win against Snape.

"That should teach you not to indulge on sweets when dinner is approaching," said her guardian with a smirk. "Especially if said sweets came from redheaded men who go by the last name of Weasley." The girl refused to respond in favor of sulking as some act of childish rebellion. Snape merely arched an eyebrow, but as the girl wouldn't even look at him, he decided to leave for the kitchen to continue whatever he was doing before he got disturbed.

After what seemed like an eternity, Snape finally called Cyrille down for dinner. The brat came trudging downstairs, still looking a bit resentful.

"Are you still going to act childish or are you ready to have dinner?" asked Snape. The girl said nothing in return, but she sat down on one of the chairs opposite him and he served the food despite the silent atmosphere in the house.

Halfway through the meal, Cyrille looked up at her guardian and spoke. "I'm sorry for going off on you like that," she started tentatively in a small voice. Sneaking a look at her guardian, she gathered her composure and spoke louder. "I guess it really was my fault. I just felt a little like an idiot earlier."

"I accept your apology, although I would appreciate being treated with a little more respect. Your constant back-talking and eye-rolling have got to cease," said the man a little sternly. "But I suppose in this case, it was partially my fault for misleading you."

"I know, and I'm really sorry. I'll try to treat you better in the future," she said.

"If it is not too much to ask," said Snape as they both fell silent in favor of enjoying their scrumptious meal of beef and mashed potatoes.

After the meal, Cyrille asked Snape if she could perhaps bake some cookies because she had the sudden urge to eat them. The man raised an eyebrow in question.

"Did you not just feast on sweets before we had dinner?"

"Pleeeeease, Severus?" she asked with puppy dog eyes. Against his better judgment, he agreed.

"Fine!" he growled. "Merlin save me from hyperactive, overly manipulative children!" Cyrille gave him the sweetest smile she could flash and went on with making a batch of cookies.

Once Cyrille had taken the cookies from the oven, the room was instantly filled with their delicious smell. She took a bite and couldn't help but squeal with delight even if it were still hot. She then proceeded to offer Snape one, but he declined. The girl looked crestfallen and her guardian rolled his eyes.

"I'll have just the one, Miss Cromwell." Instantly, the girl's eyes lit up with joy and something else Snape couldn't quite identify. Mischief? He shook his head and ate the cookie that the girl handed him. An instant later, he was completely regretting letting the brat manipulate him as he felt himself grow feathers. The girl was shaking silently in laughter, unable to stand as she felt the energy leave her body the more she laughed.

The charm had lasted for a mere ten seconds. Snape's feathers had fallen off the floor in a mess and he shook himself to remove any remnants of the girl's foolish prank. Sensing danger, Cyrille instantly sobered, squeaked, and ran upstairs to her room where she hoped the man wouldn't be able to get to her. It was a reasonable fear, she told herself. After all, the man had a murderous glint in his eyes.

After what felt to her like eternity but in reality was only a few seconds, she heard heavy footsteps on the stairs. It seemed to have stopped midway, and then a booming voice came out. "MISS CROMWELL!"

"Uh-oh," said the girl as she hid under the covers of her bed and feigned sleep.

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A/N: I just want to greet everyone a HAPPY NEW YEAR! I hope you're enjoying the occasion with your friends and families! :)

As always, thank you for staying with me. Your patience is appreciated. LOL.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter XIII**

Cyrille was on her hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor. Snape had demanded they be spotless by the time he returned to check on her and she couldn't help but remember what had happened last night to land her in that position.

* * *

_Last night…_

"MISS CROMWELL!" When he could hear no sound from Cyrille, he huffed. "If you value your neck, you will COME. DOWN. THIS. INSTANT."

Cyrille shut her eyes tighter, as if the act could make her fall asleep faster. Snape, on the other hand, was now counting to ten in his head. When he reached ten and still failed to see any sign of his ward, he marched to her room.

The door burst open and Snape saw the brat feigning sleep. He raised an eyebrow instinctively. "You cannot possibly believe that I will be fooled by _this_?" he asked disbelievingly. No reply. "Miss Cromwell!" Silence. "Fine. If this is how you wish to act, then I shall leave you to think about your wrongdoings tonight. I will deal with you tomorrow and I had better hear an adequate apology," he said as he stomped out the door.

* * *

And that was how Cyrille landed in this predicament. As soon as she had finished breakfast, Snape set her to the task without so much as a lecture, which in itself was worrying. With a sigh, Cyrille attacked the kitchen floor with vigor.

When two hours had passed, she had finally deemed the kitchen floor spotless. Despite the reason for her cleaning, she felt proud of herself for having completed her task. Now, she had just one more task to accomplish, but she wasn't particularly keen on doing it.

Convincing herself that she had no other choice, Cyrille gathered up her courage and went to Severus' study where the man presumably did his reading. As she reached the door, she knocked thrice. The sound came out louder than she had intended and she hoped that Severus wouldn't think she were trying to annoy him again. She was in enough trouble as it was. After a few seconds, she heard a deep voice say, "Enter."

* * *

Snape sat in his study attempting to read a book and had been staring at the same page for quite a while now. He found it difficult to focus as his mind was elsewhere. He was thinking of a particularly disobedient brat who should be scrubbing the kitchen floors spotless if she knew what was good for her.

He thought back to the incident last night and felt the anger bubbling inside him once again. Oh yes, he was angry, but it was not so much the prank but the intent behind it that got him mad. It didn't help that the girl had come retaliating with a prank not an hour after their discussion on proper respect. In truth, he didn't mind if the brat wanted to play harmless pranks on him occasionally so long as they were done in private, but he didn't appreciate pranks that were played to get back at someone. Call him sensitive, but years of experience, especially ones with the Marauders, taught him that. He was definitely going to give Cyrille a piece of his mind later, when she finished the task he had assigned her over their awkward and silent breakfast.

He had deliberately held his tongue earlier because he knew that it would unsettle the little monster before their discussion. This was actually a technique that worked surprisingly well with his unruly students. He found that when he left the children to think instead of giving a lecture on the spot, they came up with the strangest ideas to scare themselves silly and become nervous wrecks by the time he talked to them. As a result, they were more likely to listen and absorb whatever insane lecture he had to give. Plus, he had to admit that it was actually quite amusing to see the little troublemakers on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

A sound of knocking brought him back to reality. He took a deep breath and tried to clear his mind because he believed it was best to speak to the child in a calm manner. He braced himself for the inevitable and said, "Enter."

The door cracked open a few inches and Cyrille's head poked through the doorway. "I… um… finished what you asked me to do," she said awkwardly. She noticed that the room was dimly lit, a fact she didn't enjoy at the moment.

"When I said enter, I was speaking of you in entirety and not just your head." Cyrille shuffled inside and closed the door, feeling like she had just been let into a lion's cage. Oh would Snape love being compared to a lion. She lingered by the door, unsure of whether or not it was safe to close the distance between them.

"Come here," he said. As the girl made her way to Snape, he motioned for her to claim the empty couch seat beside him. When she looked hesitant, Snape growled, "Sit!" Cyrille knew better than to disobey a direct command from the man and found herself doing as she was told.

After sitting for a few seconds, she could no longer take the awkwardness and finally cracked. "I'm sorry," she said miserably.

"And what exactly are you sorry for?" he asked in a tone that resembled the one he used in lecturing in the classroom.

"Playing a prank on you," she said.

"And why did you feel the need to do that?"

"Well… I just wanted to try that at least once in my life," she said. Although this was true, this wasn't really why she had done it in the first place. Thinking back to what she had done, her reasons now seemed incredibly stupid and childish, and she didn't think she could actually say it out loud for her guardian to hear.

"I do not take kindly to lying, Miss Cromwell," he said menacingly. Then, in a less deadly tone, he added, "How about the truth this time?"

"I… It's stupid, really…" she said. Seeing no way out, she sighed. "I just wanted to… to get back at you for making me feel like… like an idiot," she said in a small voice. She winced as the excuse sounded lame, even to herself. "I'm sorry."

"And that is precisely why I am angry!" he said. "As a child, it is normal to want to play pranks and I understand that. I am not angry about the prank itself, although if you attempted it in public, that would be another story." He paused and waited for the girl to look at him because she was currently finding the floor interesting. Once he had gotten her attention again, he continued. "Revenge will get you nowhere, Miss Cromwell. I know that you believe I am overreacting to a mindless prank, but believe me when I say that I am imparting to you an important life lesson. Imagine a situation where both parties are intent on getting revenge on each other. It will turn into a bloody war when neither knows when to stop. And remember that when you seek revenge, you are not only hurting your enemies; you are hurting yourself as well. Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you?" The girl nodded mutely.

"I'm really sorry."

"Apologies only weigh something when you mean them."

"I mean it, Severus! I won't do it again."

"And I suppose when you told me yesterday that you'd try to treat me better in the future, you meant _this_?" he asked seriously, though not really angry. Cyrille's eyes widened.

"No! I… I wasn't really trying to be disrespectful or anything. I just… I really don't know what I was thinking," she admitted. "But I meant what I said yesterday, Severus. I'm sorry for getting back at you; it was really childish and uncalled for. And I'm sorry for losing my temper last time we talked, and for… um… pretending to be asleep when you came to my room." Snape gave a short nod.

"Do not _ever _repeat this."

"I won't."

"Then I believe we have reached an understanding," he said. When a few seconds have passed and Snape had not said anything, Cyrille spoke.

"You're not still mad, are you?" she asked tentatively. Snape motioned for her to come closer and she scooted over to his side. Suddenly, he grabbed her ear and twisted it without warning, earning a surprised "Ouch!" from the girl.

"Now, you are forgiven." The brat rubbed her stinging ear and looked at her guardian resentfully as he stood.

"Where are you going?"

"To the kitchen. If I find that your work is inadequate then I will have you clean the bathroom as well," he said and Cyrille made an expression of disgust as she followed Snape, who was intent on inspecting her work. _Bully! _she thought.

* * *

Around three days after the incident, an owl came in delivering what Snape assumed to be mail. The creature dropped it on the table, exactly where Cyrille had found the pile of newspapers last time. Upon closer inspection, the mail was actually another copy of the Daily Prophet.

"I see they haven't cancelled my subscription to the Prophet upon my death," he said. He sighed and grabbed the newspaper. Remembering the owl, he prepared a bowl of water and some owl treats and left them on the table. He then claimed the couch and scanned the headline, which had a picture of himself along with the title "Severus Snape: Alive?" _So it begins._

He continued reading and saw that the article had been written by Rita Skeeter. He distinctly remembered the woman from the days of the TriWizard Tournament, when she couldn't keep her nose out of other people's businesses and wrote false articles about anything that mattered. He vaguely wondered how his acquaintances had been able to bribe the woman into working for them. _I suppose it wouldn't take much. This should be a big story and she would be practically begging for it. _He shook his head in disgust that such a person should exist.

He heard a loud thud upstairs and frowned. During the days that he spent with Cyrille, he had learned to fear hearing any kind of noise from the girl's room as it usually meant that she was up to something. Snape stood and folded the newspaper, leaving it on the coffee table as he made his way upstairs. He opened the door without bothering to knock and turned a suspicious glare on the girl.

"What was that noise?"

"Er… the book fell," she said stupidly. Snape arched an eyebrow.

"I was… um… levitating it," she said.

"Levitating," he repeated. He noticed that the girl had her wand out and a few of her books – Snape's old first year books – were scattered on the bed circling her. He distinctly remembered instructing the brat to read on the theory so that he could help her with the practical aspect; but if she were willing to study by herself then he wouldn't stop her.

"Yeah," said Cyrille, her cheeks beginning to flush.

"And how are you faring?" he asked as he sat down on the bed. He noticed the girl's red face and realized that she must be embarrassed at being caught practicing magic in her room, not that it was anything to be ashamed of. He had already told her that although students were generally not allowed to practice magic outside the school, the parents were responsible for children who have yet to reach the proper age for schooling.

"Well, I managed to get the book to float a few inches on my first try, but it fell almost instantly. After a few more tries, I got it to hover; so now, I'm trying to get it to move in air."

"That is rather impressive," he said to the girl's surprise. "Students don't normally succeed on their first try. Actually, we let the students start with light objects such as feathers because they are easier to manipulate. Once they have mastered the skill, only then will they move to heavier objects. It sounds like you're doing fine."

"Thanks, but I didn't know that I was supposed to start with light objects first. If I did, I wouldn't have started practicing on a thick, hardbound book," she said with a frown. "The book didn't mention anything about that, though."

"Books don't always tell you everything. Sometimes, you gain skills with practice."

"Can I see you do the spell?" she asked with huge eyes that were impossible to resist. He showed her how to properly cast the _Wingardium Leviosa_ spell and she watched with wide eyes as she saw the book on the floor slowly fly toward her and into her outstretched hand.

"Remember to hold the magic and be clear with your intent. You should be able to master that particular spell with practice," he said with a hint of pride that didn't go unnoticed by the girl. This made her smile; it was all the encouragement that she needed.

As if suddenly remembering the perils of letting the brat keep a wand, he scowled and added, "Miss Cromwell, please stick to harmless spells for self-practices. You will not even attempt to cast any offensive spells or hexes when I am not around. Is that clear?" The girl nodded. "Good. I will not have you blast a hole through my furniture," he said. "Or yourself," he added as an afterthought.

The days following had been relatively flat as Snape and Cyrille fell into a routine. Every morning, Snape would scan the papers and read about articles alluding to the fact that he were still alive. He would then prepare breakfast, always serving himself coffee and leaving milk or juice for the brat. After the meal, he would retreat to his study or the laboratory and keep himself busy until late in the afternoon when he would conduct his lessons with Cyrille. He had managed to teach her many things including how to use a quill properly and some topics concerning Wizarding culture and ethics to the point where Cyrille felt like she were brought up as a witch. She felt infinitely grateful to the man for all his help and felt less and less worried about the prospect of going to Hogwarts. Her initial nervousness had turned into excitement and she found herself asking many questions about school which Snape patiently answered. He was always glad to see his ward happy.

"Do students have to be officially eleven before they get accepted to Hogwarts?" she asked one day.

"No. If for instance, the student's birthday falls on December, he will be accepted even if he were a few months short of eleven," he answered. "Why do you ask? Does your birthday fall after September?" he asked, never really being concerned about it until now.

"No, I was born in August. I was just curious."

"I see. You are always curious," he said. "I was told that those who are born in August are dreadfully annoying."

"Not if you were born on the 18th! So I'm an exception, really." Snape tucked the little tidbit of information in his mind.

"I am fairly certain that you got that statement wrong. Perhaps you mean that those who are born on the 18th of August are the worst sort."

"Whatever you say, Severus. Speaking of birthdays, when's yours?"

"It is unimportant. I rarely celebrate my birthday as I find nothing worth celebrating."

"But it's your birthday!"

"Yes, I believe we've already established that," he said with a smirk. Predictably, the girl scowled. She was so easy to tease.

"You're not getting anything from me," said Cyrille decisively.

"You're not getting anything from me either."

"That's nothing new to me," she whispered to herself, unaware that her guardian had an extremely keen sense of hearing. _That's going to change, _thought Snape. _Her birthday is a little over a month away. That should be enough time for me to come up with something._

That afternoon, Snape received a letter from the headmistress.

Severus,

I am writing to you to inform you that you are being invited over the headquarters by Molly and the rest of the Order for a visit. They desperately want to hear from you. Honestly, they kept on pestering me to check up on your condition! You really should visit and tell them that you are over your "illness". I am getting tired of acting as the messenger so I shall expect you over soon. In fact, I have already told them that you may come over this weekend, not that I am forcing you to come. Bring your ward over as well.

Regards,

Minerva

"That manipulative old –" His tirade was cut off by Cyrille's voice.

"Severus?" asked the girl. "You're talking to yourself, you know?"

"If I wanted your opinion, I would've asked for it."

"You're awfully grumpy today," she observed matter-of-factly, like she were commenting on the weather.

"I am not _grumpy_!" said Snape indignantly. Then, with a defeated sigh, he said, "It seems like we have somewhere to be this weekend."

"We're going out?"

"No. I was just going to bring you to the bathroom for a tour." Cyrille scowled at him.

"You don't have to be sarcastic about _everything_!"

"It would help if you stopped asking stupid questions. You're the one giving me ammunition to make sarcastic comments."

"That wasn't a stupid question!" said Cyrille. "I was just asking for some kind of confirmation."

"Is there something wrong with your ears then? You seem to have a habit of 'confirming' my statements every time I make one."

"I'm not deaf!"

"Ah. A lack of comprehension skills then."

"Please tell me that you did not just call me stupid," said the girl.

"Your statement just confirmed my earlier claim," said Snape, feeling particularly nasty today.

"And you are just being naturally disagreeable. You have an awful defense mechanism," she said with a shake of her head.

"You're suddenly an expert on psychology now?" asked the man with a hint of amusement. He loved seeing his ward try to act mature and fail. It was – dare he say it – cute.

"It's going to be alright, you know?" she said in all seriousness.

"What?" asked Snape, taken aback by the sudden change of topic.

"You always act snarky whenever something's bothering you. I'm assuming that you're not particularly keen on whatever you have to do this weekend," she said. _Damn the brat. When had she gotten this insightful? _Snape always found himself surprised when his ward suddenly decided to impart words of wisdom.

"I am not bothered."

"Oh," said the girl, clearly not believing her guardian. "Well, if you need – I mean I'm always here if, um…" She coughed to cover her embarrassment at having failed to form a coherent sentence. Despite himself, Snape gave a small smile and nodded his understanding to spare the brat the trouble of fumbling for the right words to say. Actually, his mouth just twitched a little; but for Snape, that was as good as a grin or a laugh.

He suddenly stood up and went to his room without any explanation, leaving Cyrille to stare perplexedly at her guardian's retreating form. "I didn't offend him, did I?" she asked aloud.

Back in his room, Snape hurriedly took out his quill, ink, and a small roll of parchment and quickly scrawled a short reply to Minerva before he could change his mind. He sent it with the same owl that the woman used to deliver her message.

* * *

McGonagall sat in her office sipping tea while letting her book fall open on her lap. As she was about to take another sip from her cup, her owl came by and dropped the letter on her open book. It turned to go back to the owlery without waiting for the woman's acknowledgment. She read the letter quickly and found a small smile playing on her lips. The letter contained four simple words in elegant handwriting:

Expect us this Saturday.

She returned to reading her book while thinking, _I have mastered Albus' meddling skills! _before losing herself in her fictional world.

* * *

A/N: Another long chapter!

Next chapter: A visit to the headquarters and Cyrille's birthday, if you haven't already guessed. And it's almost time for Cyrille to go to Hogwarts!

Stay tuned. As always, thanks for reading! Let me know what you think. :)


	14. Chapter 14

Hello again, guys! I'm back with another chapter. I'm so sorry to keep you waiting. :)

* * *

**Chapter XIV**

_The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London__._

Cyrille read the words off a small piece of parchment. As soon as she had finished, the parchment self-destructed and turned into ashes. She jumped back in surprise thinking her hands would get burned along with it then flushed when she realized that she had overreacted. Her guardian watched in amusement as he saw the emotions play on the girl's face.

"You did memorize the words, didn't you?" asked Snape.

"Of course I did! How hard is it to remember a simple sentence like that?" she snapped.

"Watch your tone, Miss Cromwell," said the man with narrowed eyes.

"Sorry," said the girl. As she looked up, she saw a house emerge from the ground, pushing the neighboring houses away. She was quite surprised to see the occupants unperturbed. "Cool!"

"I believe I'm going to have to enroll you in an etiquette class soon." Cyrille chose to ignore her guardian in favor of gawking at the house in front of her. "Come. We do not have all day," said Snape as he led Cyrille into the house. He rang the doorbell and waited. Suddenly, the door burst open and the entire Weasley clan was upon him.

"Severus! Goodness, you're so thin! You poor, poor man," said the Weasley matriarch, dabbing at her eyes with a small handkerchief.

"Now, now, Molly. Severus has just recovered from his condition," said Arthur. "Let him breathe." At that moment, Cyrille's head poked out from behind Snape. "Now who do we have here?" he asked.

"Ah, this is my ward. Miss Cromwell, please come and introduce yourself."

"Hello, I'm Cyrille," she said shyly. She always felt uncomfortable in the presence of strangers. She wasn't used to having to introduce herself to people since her aunt had never brought anyone home before. And even if she had, Cyrille seriously doubted that she would have the pleasure of being introduced to them.

"Well hello, dear! It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Molly Weasley. This is my husband, Arthur. Those two men by the door are my sons Bill and Charlie. Oh please come in! Goodness, where are my manners?" asked Mrs. Weasley as she ushered them both into the house. As Snape set foot inside, the first thing he noticed was the absence of Mrs. Black's portrait.

"We've been doing some renovating since the end of the war," said Arthur in response to Snape's unasked question. "We reapplied the wards since the magic seemed to have been weakened. Somehow, we were able to take advantage of that. Mrs. Black's portrait will no longer be screaming insults at us," he said with a chuckle. They were all led into the kitchen where an entire table was filled with food.

"Sit down and eat. Don't be shy!" said Mrs. Weasley. "There is plenty of food for everyone." Cyrille piled a small amount of food on her plate as she saw her guardian do the same.

"Cyrille dear, you have to eat more. Look at you, so thin!" said Mrs. Weasley in a motherly tone. "Severus! Don't you feed her properly?"

"Trust me, Molly. When it comes to eating, she doesn't have to be told twice. She has the appetite of a starving hippogriff," said Snape dryly.

"I do not!" said Cyrille indignantly. Suddenly, there was a loud crash from the living room.

"George! What have you done now?" asked Mrs. Weasley as she stepped out of the kitchen.

"Mum! Why is it that whenever something happens, you automatically assume that I had anything to do with it?" Cyrille heard a familiar voice reply.

"Who else would 'arrive with a bang'?"

"It could have been Ron, you know?"

"Ron does not own a shop filled with explosives!"

"Neither do I!"

"Hush now. We have guests!"

"Old Snape is here?" asked George as he entered the kitchen. "Hullo, Professor!" he said upon seeing Snape. He nodded back to George in acknowledgment.

"Mr. Weasley."

"And who's this little cretin?" asked George.

"George!"

"Sorry mum," he said sheepishly. "I think I've seen you before."

"Yes, Mr. Weasley. You've had the honor of meeting my ward in Diagon Alley. I believe it was you who gave Miss Cromwell those blasted treats."

"Ah of course! That was you!" said George, completely unperturbed by the fact that he had just been apprehended. He led Cyrille out of the kitchen as he tried to get her to talk about how she made use of the treats. As soon as they were gone, Mrs. Weasley began her questioning.

"How were you able to escape? When Harry came back, he told us how you had been betrayed by Voldemort!" _Not this story again,_ thought Snape.

"It's a long story, Molly. To be honest, I'd rather not have to speak of the details but I'm sure that Minerva would tell you if you asked her," he said. He felt guilty for pawning it off to his colleague but he figured that she would be able to handle it better. He felt uncomfortable talking about himself in any way. "To keep it short, Miss Cromwell saved me. She found me and brought me to a local healer."

"Severus! How could you call your ward Miss Cromwell?" chastised the redhead.

"That was how I addressed her before she became my ward."

"Oh! And how did that come about?"

"Her family's condition was less than ideal," said Snape darkly.

"How bad was the abuse?" spoke Mr. Weasley for the first time. "It must have been difficult to make her trust you let alone come with you."

"I wouldn't exactly call it abuse; it was more of neglect. And quite the contrary, I had no difficulty making her come with me. I believe she may have trusted me from the moment she saw me."

"She's a good judge of character then!"

"I sincerely hope so," muttered Snape to himself as he thought of how dangerous it would be if Cyrille started trusting everyone. If the girl managed to trust him under the suspicious circumstances in which she found him...

"What is that?" asked Snape suddenly as he pointed to a book which had a picture of himself smiling brightly and waving to the public on the cover.

"I see Minerva hasn't told you yet," said Mrs. Weasley uncertainly as she looked to her husband for support.

"Told me _what?_"

"It would seem like Rita Skeeter has a mind of her own, however surprising that might sound," said Mr. Weasley. "She thought that it would benefit us–meaning herself–if she would publish a book about you."

"What?" asked Snape, speechless for the first time in his life.

"I assure you, Severus; we had nothing to do with this. We just saw the book in Diagon Alley when we went to visit George in the shop." Snape snatched the book from the table and flipped open to a random page.

"Grossly exaggerated..." he muttered. He went a shade darker with each page that he turned. Arthur grabbed the book from Snape before he would hyperventilate on the spot.

"Well, there's nothing we can do about it now. You kind of turned into a war hero to the people after the book came out," said Arthur uncomfortably.

"You're telling me that people actually bought _this_?" asked Snape incredulously.

"Well, if they bought Lockhart's books before, it's not surprising that they'd buy this. Not that I'm saying you're anything like Lockhart." At that precise moment, Molly decided to clean invisible dust. She was noticeably blushing, but thankfully the two men were none the wiser.

Snape closed his eyes and mentally counted to ten, taking deep breaths in between to calm himself. When he felt sufficiently calm, he opened his eyes once again. "Now I know how Potter felt three years back," he muttered. He felt a little bad for making fun of the boy before. He couldn't help but think that if the tables were turned, he would've been furious enough to commit murder to anyone stupid enough to make fun of him. _The boy probably still hates me,_ he thought. _And I wouldn't blame him. I spent years trying to make his life miserable._ Even with the truth out, he didn't believe that Potter would ever forgive him. His actions had damned him. He sighed aloud as he had forgotten that he was currently in front of the Weasleys.

"Severus, are you alright? You look a little tired," said Mrs. Weasley.

"I'm fine, Molly. I was just thinking about certain things."

"Why don't we go and check in on the children? Frankly speaking, I'm feeling a little nervous. They're being too quiet. With George here, they should've broken at least half a dozen plates by now," she said as she led the two men out of the kitchen. They went up the narrow staircase and passed by the closed doors. As they reached the top, Mrs. Weasley cracked the door open silently.

They saw everyone huddled around in the middle of the room as if they were discussing their deepest, darkest secret. Mrs. Weasley cleared her throat and everyone jumped back in surprise.

"Mum! Stop scaring us like that!" protested George.

"What on earth are you doing there huddled around like a bunch of Quidditch players discussing strategy?"

"Quidditch doesn't sound very fun," said Cyrille.

"That's because you haven't tried playing it yet," said George.

"And she is not getting on any broom without my permission," said Snape. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looked at each other and smiled knowingly. Snape was starting to get protective of his child. They never thought they'd see the day Snape would openly show his care for anyone.

"Of course, Professor! I would never try to get Cyrille on a broom without asking you first," said George defensively.

"And you never broke any rules back at Hogwarts," said Bill. Charlie snickered beside him.

"And I thought you were family," said George with mock hurt.

"I think it's about time I take Ms. Cromwell home. We have imposed on you for far too long," said Snape.

"Nonsense, Severus. You're always welcome here," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Molly is right, Severus. In fact, you should visit more often," said Mr. Weasley.

"I appreciate your kindness. However, it is getting rather late."

"Why don't you two stay the night? Cyrille can use Ron's old room. He won't be coming here for a while because he and Hermione are helping Harry get settled into his new house." Cyrille looked at Snape pleadingly. She really did like this bunch and she was hoping to get to spend some more time with them.

"Fine. We will stay," said Snape. Cyrille jumped and hugged her guardian.

"Thanks, Severus!" she said and the Weasley children nearly choked after hearing how the girl addressed their most feared professor.

"George dear, why don't you help get Professor Snape and Cyrille settled in?" asked Mrs. Weasley. "You don't mind sharing a room with Severus do you?" she asked, directing the question to Cyrille.

"I don't mind at all," said Cyrille. "Even if he does snore," she added mischievously. Snape extended his hand to grab Cyrille's ear but the girl had already predicted this. She stepped away and hid behind Mr. Weasley and added, "Occasionally."

"I'll forgive you this time," whispered the man to his ward. George jumped in to the rescue and led them to their room. Once inside, he left them after giving Cyrille a wink.

"I snore?" asked Snape with a raised eyebrow.

"You look like the snoring type," said Cyrille.

"If you ever tell people about that again in the future, you'll regret it."

"What makes you think I would even dare?" she asked with mock horror.

"I see Mr. Weasley is rubbing off on you."

"You do realize that potentially every man in this house is Mr. Weasley?" she asked.

"I will regret introducing you to them," he said. Cyrille smiled widely. This was basically Snape's way of telling her that he approved of her behavior today.

"I guess it's too late for regrets now," said Cyrille. "I really like them. They're nice."

"I could see that. What were you doing in that room earlier? You look like you'd seen a ghost when we came in."

"What do you mean? We were just talking," said Cyrille.

"Huddled together like that?"

"We can't talk huddled together like that?"

"Don't think I didn't notice how you changed the subject to Quidditch when you were asked what you were doing. I have to say that I'm impressed with your quick thinking. However, that does not fool me. If anything, it makes me even more suspicious."

"Well, we weren't really doing anything. George was just showing me stuff."

"It's the 'stuff' that worries me."

"Are you normally this paranoid?"

"Only when it concerns Mr. Weasley." And you, he added in his thoughts.

"Relax, Severus. He was just showing me some of his new products," she said. "And I promise not to use them on you or the Weasleys," she added when she saw her guardian begin to protest.

"You had your wand out," he pointed out.

"He showed me a few quick spells. Not harmful ones. I swear!"

"Fine. I will let this go. But if you ever get into any kind of trouble with these spells, I will personally make sure that you suffer enough to never even think about doing it again. Is that clear?"

"Crystal."

* * *

The next day, Snape woke up early and decided to go down for a glass of water. He saw his ward sleeping peacefully on her bed and he crept out silently so as not to wake her up unnecessarily. As he was about to enter the kitchen, he heard footsteps inside. He thought that perhaps Mrs. Weasley was already awake and was preparing for breakfast. He stepped inside and the figure turned around in surprise. As he saw Snape, he dropped the plate he was holding and screamed. Everyone rushed downstairs to see what the ruckus was about.

"Ronald Weasley! Why are you screaming like a little girl at this hour?"

"Mum! I thought... I thought it was... a g-g-ghost," said Ron, his heart still audibly pounding in his chest.

"I told you that Professor Snape was coming!"

"But I thought that was yesterday! I still have to get used to the idea that he's not dead, you know?"

"Ron! That is rude! You will apologize now."

"Sorry," he said miserably. He had a huge blush on his cheeks.

"It's alright," said Snape. "I'm sure he didn't do it on purpose," he added irritably. In truth he was annoyed, but he couldn't really bring himself to yell at the man in front of his mother, not when she went out of her way to let him stay the night.

"What's going on down here?" asked Cyrille while rubbing her eyes, clearly having just woken up. Snape resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"This is my son Ronald. Ron, meet Cyrille, Professor Snape's ward." Ron merely gawked at the girl as if she were some kind of mythical creature.

"Hi," said Cyrille.

"Honestly, Ron. The girl says hi and you gawk at her?" said George.

"Um, hello," said Ron. "I'm Ron, but I guess you already know that." He laughed awkwardly.

"What are you doing here, little brother? I thought you and Hermione were helping Harry?" asked George.

"Ginny came so I left," said Ron. "Hermione kept staring daggers at me and I thought I'd done something wrong. Turns out she wanted me to give them some privacy. She made up some lame excuse about researching some _Feng Shui_ or whatever for the house so I said I'd come here and visit first," he added.

"You left Ginny alone with Harry?" said Mrs. Weasley with a hint of alarm.

"Yeah, is there something wrong?" asked Ron.

"Honestly, Ron. You really do have the emotional range of a teaspoon," said George as he rolled his eyes. "Mum's afraid that those two might be having much more fun than they're supposed to."

"What's that supposed to–mum! Harry wouldn't do that!" said Ron, suddenly outraged. Mrs. Weasley turned a dark shade of red.

"I was expressing concern! Harry is like a son to me; I would never doubt his intentions. But sometimes, children don't think before they act!"

"Molly, I'm sure you mean well but Ron is right. You have to trust the children more," said Mr. Weasley soothingly. Everyone fell into an awkward silence.

"Is this Harry the same person who did the interview to clear your name? That student of yours who you seem to have this misunderstanding with?" whispered Cyrille to her guardian.

"Yes," replied Snape. "Though misunderstanding seems rather inadequate to describe our relationship. We hated each other," he added matter-of-factly.

"You don't really hate him, do you?" she asked. Snape took a moment before making his reply.

"I suppose not, though I can't say the same for him."

"I don't think he hates you either. He cleared your name even if he thought you were dead, didn't he?" Before Snape could make a reply, George interrupted.

"What are you two whispering about there?"

"Nothing that concerns you, Mr. Weasley."

"And here I thought we were friends," said George with mock hurt. Ron gawked at his brother as if he'd gone mad. He was certain that Snape was going to chop him up and sell him to the apothecary or something.

"And here I thought I had a good sense of judgment," replied Snape. Ron simply blinked at his professor. Had nearly dying changed him? He vaguely wondered.

"Why don't I start making breakfast since Ron managed to wake everyone up?" offered Bill.

"I'll help," said George. "I'll play Fleur today so you wouldn't miss her too much while you're here," he added playfully as he batted his eyelids in mock flirtation.

"Fleur doesn't help me cook, George. And she doesn't act like that."

"Eez eet zi accent?" asked George.

"Oy, watch it. That's my wife you're mocking."

"Don't be such a killjoy, Bill."

"Maybe she does sound a little like that," added Bill thoughtfully.

"You'd be sleeping on the couch for the rest for your life if she heard you say that," interrupted Charlie.

"Make yourselves useful and go set the table instead of making fun of my wife," said Bill to his brothers.

"Fine," replied George and Charlie in unison as they did what Bill asked.

"Do you need any help with that?" asked Cyrille.

"You're the guest here, Cyrille. You're not supposed to lift a finger," responded Charlie.

"That's okay, I really don't mind helping."

"Why don't you put these where they belong then," he said as he handed Cyrille the napkins. As she finished, Bill served the food and everyone chattered away as they ate a hearty breakfast.

"Is Percy not coming?" asked Bill suddenly.

"He's been held up at work, apparently," said Arthur.

"Is he still aiming for that stupid promotion?" asked George. "Never mind, this is Percy we're talking about here."

"Is Percy another Weasley?" whispered Cyrille to her guardian.

"Yes."

"Oh."

After breakfast, Snape and Cyrille bid their farewells as they returned home through the Floo.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," said Cyrille as she stepped through the fireplace.

"Speak for yourself," muttered Snape.

"You liked it there too, you liar." Snape shot the girl a death glare.

"Did you just say something?" he asked dangerously.

"Nope."

"I thought so," said her guardian with a triumphant look.

* * *

Cyrille woke up to the sound of claws scratching on cardboard. As she tried to discern where the noise was coming from, her eyes fell on a small box on the floor beside her bed.

She crept out of her bed and stared at the box in wonder. Then, she heard the unmistakable sound of scratching. She lifted the flaps on the box and a small furry ball poked out of it.

Meow.

Cyrille stared at the mass of black as it tilted its head. It seemed to glower at her as she continued to stare.

Meeoooooow. It purred impatiently.

"Um, Severus?" she called tentatively.

"What?" she heard him reply from downstairs. At that moment, the cat decided to wrap itself around her leg. She picked him up and ran downstairs straight to where her guardian was.

"Severus! Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!" she squealed in delight. She let go of the cat in favor of hugging her guardian and it seemed to glare at her from the ground.

"What is all this fuss about at such an hour?" asked Snape as he pretended to be immune to his ward who seemed unable to let go of him.

"You didn't have to!" said Cyrille as she clung onto her guardian. _And miss this? Not a chance, _thought Snape.

"Happy birthday, child," he said softly as he felt his throat constrict. He rarely saw his ward so happy and it felt good to know that he had caused it.

Cyrille was starting to tear up as well though she tried not to. She felt infinitely grateful to Snape. No one had ever given her a gift before, especially not on her birthday. She couldn't help herself as the tears came.

"Why are you crying, you silly child? Shall I return the cat to the pet shop then?" he asked as he held the girl in a firm embrace. The cat in question turned to glare at Snape, as if it understood what he had just said. Or perhaps it was just naturally grumpy.

Cyrille continued to cry while she was in her guardian's arms. It took a while before the tears subsided. When she had finally used up all her tears, she spoke.

"Severus, I love him! Oh how did you know?" Meow, the cat purred. It licked its paws as they conversed.

"I didn't. I was going to get you an owl for practicality but I thought you would appreciate having a cat more. He did seem somewhat lonely in the pet shop."

"I do like cats, Severus!" Meeoooow. "Look at him; he's so smart! It's like he understands us."

"I am glad you like my gift."

"This is the best birthday ever!"

"Stop exaggerating," he said lightly. "You are officially eleven now," he suddenly remembered.

"I'm officially eligible to attend Hogwarts!"

"Yes, another troublemaker to look out for. My peaceful days are over."

"I'm not that bad," said Cyrille as she rolled her eyes. "Severus?" she suddenly called after a while. The cat looked up and purred once again and Cyrille looked at it momentarily before turning her attention back to her guardian.

"Yes?" he replied.

"Thank you."

"You've already said that. There is nothing you should thank me for. I did what any guardian would have done for his ward."

"No, you're the best guardian in the world!" said the girl proudly.

"Humph. You're still not getting extra dessert tonight."

"But Severus!" Meow? Cyrille looked at the cat in suspicion then her eyes widened as a realization hit her. "Uh-oh."

"What is it now?"

"He's responding to Severus." Meeoooooooow, the cat purred delightedly.

"Severus," attempted Snape. The cat instantly went to the man and wrapped itself around his leg. "Cyrille Cromwell!"

"What? It's not my fault! I didn't name him! Maybe it's because that's the first word he heard me say when I saw him," she reasoned.

"Make him stop it."

"But he's a cat," protested Cyrille weakly.

"A smart cat, according to someone."

"Fine," said Cyrille as she took the cat back upstairs. When an hour had passed, she came trudging back downstairs with a triumphant smile.

"He responds to a different name now?" asked Snape lazily as he scanned the morning paper for the usual stories.

"Yes."

"Good."

"He responds to Sevy." The newspaper fell to the table with a soft thud.

* * *

A/N: And that's another one done. I'm really sorry that I didn't update for so long, but I'm back now and hopefully for good. I still won't promise constant updates, but I'll try my best. Thank you for staying with me! :)

As always, let me know what you think. ;)


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter XV**

"You will be the death of me," said Snape.

"Well, at least he doesn't have your name now," said Cyrille cheekily.

"You might want to behave; otherwise I'm confiscating your other gifts."

"What other gifts?"

"You've made some new friends, it would seem. But I want you to have breakfast first before you go about opening your presents."

"What's for breakfast?" asked Cyrille as she hopped into a chair.

"Well, I noticed that you seem to have a strange fascination with this," said Snape as he pulled a box of cereal from the kitchen cupboard.

"Cereal!" Cyrille squealed.

"I do not understand how you can ingest so much sugar so early in the morning." Snape shook his head in disbelief.

"It's good! You should try it instead of just slurping your coffee every day. I don't understand why you like that stuff, it's so bitter," said the girl as she stuck her tongue out in exaggeration.

"It's an adult thing."

"I'm not growing up," claimed Cyrille determinedly as she ate her breakfast. _You'd better not, _thought Snape. "Can I feed Sevy some milk?"

"Why are you asking for my permission to feed your cat? He is your responsibility now and I will not be accused of animal cruelty."

"Right." Cyrille grabbed a small bowl and filled it with milk. She put it on the floor as she called for her pet. "Sevy? Food's ready! Here, kitty, kitty…" Snape cringed at the mention of the cat's name. After a few seconds, the cat came out and rubbed itself between Cyrille's legs before attacking the bowl of milk.

"He kind of reminds me of you," said Cyrille out of the blue.

"I'm glad you've noticed the resemblance," replied Snape sarcastically.

"No, really. It's like he's always glaring, you know. And he was grumpy too when I first met him, but he's a real softy once you get to know him better."

"You know him so well just after a few hours?" he sneered. Cyrille just grinned at him.

"Severus! He's so adorable, how could you not be glad to be compared to him?" she asked cheekily.

"I suppose you don't want to know what else you got for your birthday then," said Snape as he pretended to scoop up the pile of presents on the table.

"No, wait! I was just kidding. You're not really taking them away, are you?" she asked in the sweetest voice she could manage.

"Manipulative little brat. Go open them."

"I knew you weren't a monster, Severus!"

"Children," he muttered as he rolled his eyes.

Cyrille pulled a box from the pile of presents and swiftly, but neatly, unwrapped it. She found a green sweater with the letter C in the middle. "Awesome," she muttered and Snape turned his attention to the object in her hand.

"Congratulations, Miss Cromwell. You are now an honorary Weasley," Snape sneered.

"The Weasleys are nice, Severus!" chastised Cyrille as she pulled another present from the pile. This one contained a scarlet colored scarf and a box of treats. "You even told Aunt Minerva about my birthday!"

"I see she's already brainwashing you into getting sorted into Gryffindor," remarked Snape with a condescending glance at the scarlet material.

"You won't disown me if I were, hypothetically speaking, sorted into Gryffindor, will you?" asked Cyrille casually.

"Of course not. I don't care if you end up in Hufflepuff. But Minerva is the headmistress; she should not be playing favorites," reasoned Snape irritably. Cyrille felt a weight off her shoulder upon hearing this. She was in fact afraid that she would disappoint Snape if she were sorted into any house other than Slytherin.

She continued busying herself with her presents, all the while her smile never fading. She had received an assortment of gifts that day. She received chocolates, strange magical objects, some books, a wand holster, and several others. It seemed like everyone she knew was doting on her and she found that she could actually live with that. It was a hundred times better than being hated or ignored which wasn't foreign to her.

"You'd better write a letter to everyone and thank them properly for these gifts."

"I will. This is the most that I've received in my life! I can't believe everyone's making an effort for me."

"That's because you are special," Severus whispered to himself as he stared into the distance. "You have the ability to crawl into people's hearts even when they've built the sturdiest walls." Sevy chose that moment to jump into Snape's lap and curl into a ball. "I suppose I'm going to see you a lot," he said to the cat as it purred contentedly in his lap. He found his treacherous hand stroking the cat's back as he watched Cyrille slowly pick up her gifts and take them up to her room to organize them. She was presumably going to write her thank you letters while she was at it.

"She is right; I _am_ becoming a softy," he remarked thoughtfully.

Suddenly, two owls flew in with difficulty and were carrying a box in between them. They hovered just above Snape when he finally took pity on them and grabbed the package. He set it on the table and immediately prepared some water for the poor owls. It would probably be a while before they regained their strength. Snape took a moment to observe them as they began to slurp the water gratefully. They looked like Hogwarts' school owls. He mentally searched for any reason why someone from Hogwarts might send him a package. Perhaps it was his old things, he thought. But did that mean that he was being kicked out? He hadn't even confirmed whether or not he would resume his duties yet and he suddenly felt guilty. School was only a little more than a week away but he quickly set that feeling aside. Snape growled as he approached the box and prodded it with his wand. It fell open and revealed a beautifully designed cake. Snape snorted as he realized that it was yet another gift for his ward. A note suddenly flew toward him. It read:

Severus,

Please send our sincerest greetings to Cyrille. I am writing on behalf of the entire faculty. When they found out that I was shopping for a gift for your ward, they were absolutely ecstatic. Take it as a bunch of grandparents who had just found out that they finally have a grandchild. They look forward to her arrival–and yours–this coming September but are hoping that you bring her with you for a visit before then. I am hinting to this event happening soon, not that I am requiring you to do anything you do not wish to do. However, it would be best not to disappoint your colleagues.

Regards,

Minerva

"That's as good as an order," said Snape as he rolled his eyes. He then went upstairs and knocked on his ward's door. Cyrille opened it and politely inquired what he needed.

"I think you will find another surprise waiting for you downstairs," he said. The girl looked at him questioningly but he gave no reply. He merely gestured for her to follow and she did.

As soon as she reached the landing, her gaze fell on the cake on the table.

"Severus, it's beautiful. Did you…"

"That's from the Hogwarts staff."

"Oh wow! You didn't tell me that they send birthday cakes to students, especially since I'm not really even attending Hogwarts yet."

"They don't," said Snape with a frown.

"I don't understand. Then why are they sending me this? Is it because I'm your ward?" she inquired.

"Indeed." Snape sighed. "Blame your Aunt Minerva for being meddlesome. They are spoiling you to death. I can see where your future at Hogwarts stands," he said irritably. "I am going to get a lot of headaches in the future."

"What do you mean?" asked Cyrille feeling slightly offended by her guardian's tone.

"It means that they're already doting on you when they haven't even met you yet. They'll probably encourage your tendency for rule breaking by overlooking your faults instead of enforcing proper discipline," he said. _Much like someone I know, _he added in his thoughts.

"How do you know I'll break the rules once I set foot on Hogwarts?"

"Because I know you."

"I am not a troublemaker!"

"Why do I find that hard to believe?"

"Wanna make a bet?" challenged Cyrille.

"Don't make bets you can't win," said Snape.

"What's the matter, you afraid?"

"Do not tempt me, Miss Cromwell. You will regret it."

"Don't worry about me," she said confidently.

"Alright then, but don't come crying to me when you lose."

"As if."

"My conditions are simple. I win if you receive a detention within the first month of school."

"What? That's totally unfair! Getting one detention doesn't automatically make me a troublemaker!"

"So you do believe that it's going to happen," said Snape triumphantly.

"How about five detentions?" she compromised.

"Five?! Are you planning on breaking every rule Hogwarts has ever made?"

"Hogwarts has only five rules?" she asked cheekily. "That was a joke. How about three?"

"I'll agree to two," Snape countered.

"Why not three?" she asked.

"Because it's one too many," he said decisively and Cyrille rolled her eyes.

"Fine, just two then. But I'm warning you, you'll be sorely disappointed."

"I sincerely doubt that. I can already smell my victory. If I win, you'll rename that cat of yours," said Snape.

"And if I win, I want you to start calling me by my given name," she said in response and Snape was taken aback. He honestly thought that the girl would start asking for something childish in return but he could hardly say no. "But you can't randomly hand me detentions if you ever decide to teach! That's cheating," she said as the thought suddenly occurred to her.

"Smart girl. Fine, it's a deal."

"I can't wait to see you lose," said Cyrille eagerly.

"We'll see about that. Even my most well-behaved students couldn't manage that," he bluffed.

"I'm different," she said, clearly pleased that her guardian agreed to have this game with her. She needed to win this if she ever wanted Snape to drop the formality in addressing her. She knew that her guardian was naturally a stubborn man and that the only way to make him concede was to defeat him.

She spent the rest of the day badgering her guardian about anything and everything that entered her mind. She knew that she was being childish but she couldn't help it. She felt the urge to cling to her guardian that day and she followed him around wherever he went. Normally, Snape would find this annoying and would ask whoever had done it to find someone else to badger. However, he didn't feel the least bit annoyed with his ward. In fact, he liked having her follow him around. He was inwardly touched that she would rather spend time with him than do other things that children her age do. He also understood why she was acting this way. In her lifetime, nobody had ever given her importance. It was perfectly normal for her to seek attention from the one person who gave a damn about her. He knew that she needed this; she needed to know that she was always wanted and that she was always welcome no matter what.

That day had been one of the best in Cyrille's life and she was beginning to see just how much her life had changed since that fateful day in the Shack. Ever since Snape had taken her in, she never had to worry about being left alone. She felt a sense of safety knowing that the man accepted her as she was without asking for anything in return. She spent hours staring into the ceiling as she contemplated about her life. Her final wish for her birthday was for her to always have Snape by her side and for the man to finally find happiness. She drifted into sleep and slept soundly that night.

* * *

A loud explosion woke Cyrille up and she sprinted downstairs to see what had just happened. She saw that Snape was already there and he had his wand carefully raised in an offensive stance. As Cyrille allowed herself to assess the damage, she saw that the entire living room was a mess. Bits of soot and tiny parts of what was once the wall were everywhere. The couch had been broken in half and the glass windows as well as the vases had all been shattered. The once red carpet was now tinged with specks of grey and black. The explosion was clearly meant to destroy the house. Luckily, no one had been there when it occurred so no one was injured. Snape was in the midst of inspecting the damage when he saw his ward coming down.

"Get dressed and bring your wand. Quickly," he said. Cyrille obeyed without question. When she returned downstairs, her guardian was glaring at his half destroyed house.

"What's going on?" she asked shakily.

"Somebody thought it would be fun to cast a blasting curse on our house," said Snape darkly. Cyrille noticed the use of the words "our house" and for a moment she felt warm inside despite the situation.

"Why would anyone do that?" she asked incredulously. "Severus, are you alright? You're not hurt, are you?"

"No, I am quite fine but I'm afraid the house is not. I'm going to have to apply some stronger protection charms so that incidents like this don't happen again."

"What can I do to help?" asked Cyrille.

"I don't want you here while I'm working. I shall write a letter to the Headquarters and tell them to expect you," he said in a tone that brooked no arguments.

"Are you sure you don't need my help?"

"I am not sure it is safe for you to stay here," he said. "I don't know if any other spells have been cast and I will not risk having you here while I poke around the living room for anything suspicious. Do not worry, this will only take a while"

"But what about you?" asked Cyrille worriedly.

"Do not worry about me. I know exactly what I'm doing. I've had more experience doing this than you think," said Snape. Cyrille bit her lip and after a long pause, she finally nodded her agreement. Snape mentally thanked her for not arguing and making matters more complicated. He then proceeded to writing a short letter and he sent it using the same owl that had delivered Cyrille's birthday cake the previous day. However, the letter was just returned to him and he silently cursed so as not to be heard by the girl.

"It would seem like no one is at the Headquarters at the moment. The Weasleys must have returned to the Burrow and my fireplace isn't connected to theirs." He uttered another curse as he realized that the Headquarters probably didn't have much use anymore since the end of the war. The Weasleys had only gone there to allow his visit without risk of incidents. "I have no choice but to send you to Hogwarts. It's the safest place besides the Headquarters. I'll trust you to explain the circumstances to Minerva," he said. Cyrille nodded obligingly. "My fireplace is connected directly to the headmistress' office. You should find her there."

"Don't worry, Severus. I'll be fine."

"Behave and don't give the headmistress a headache," he said.

"I won't," said Cyrille as she got ready to travel via the Floo Network. She fumbled for a few seconds before finally deciding to speak. "Severus?" she called hesitantly.

"What is it?"

"Be careful," she said before she grabbed a handful of Floo powder and said, "Hogwarts!" She disappeared from her guardian's view as the word left her mouth.

Cyrille tumbled out of the headmistress' fireplace in an unfashionable manner. _This is probably why Severus usually refuses to let me travel through the Floo alone, _thought Cyrille. She stood up and brushed the dust off her clothes before looking up. She was about to launch into her story when she realized that the headmistress was not present. Instead, a familiar looking young man was seated in front of a desk and was looking at her amusedly.

"Er… this _is_ the headmistress' office, isn't it?" she asked awkwardly as she shifted her weight from one foot to another.

"Yeah," said the man casually though he looked curious as to what a student was doing at Hogwarts during vacation. "Professor McGonagall went to check up on something, but she should be back in a while."

"Oh. I guess I'll just wait for her here then, if that's alright."

"Of course, but why are you coming through the professor's Floo?" he asked with genuine curiosity. Cyrille looked torn between answering and fleeing; she wasn't exactly sure her guardian wanted anyone other than her Aunt Minerva to know about the situation. The man seemed to notice this and said, "I'm sorry, it's not my business to ask. It's just that students aren't usually allowed here when school isn't in session." He looked somewhat regretful.

"I see. Well, there's just something I have to tell the headmistress. And I don't really attend Hogwarts. Not yet, I mean. This is actually my first time coming here," she said and suddenly wondered if she had said too much.

"You know Professor McGonagall personally then?" he asked. It was the only reason why a soon-to-be student could access the headmistress' Floo.

"I guess," she replied. They both stayed silent for a long time before the man found his voice once again.

"What's your name by the way?"

"I'm Cyrille."

"Nice meeting you, Cyrille. My name is Harry." Just then, the headmistress strode in and began her tirade.

"I shouldn't be made to run around the school for every little thing!" said Minerva irritably. "Anyway, I'm sorry to keep you waiting. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," she said in a more businesslike manner just as her gaze fell on Cyrille.

"Cyrille! What are you doing here?" asked McGonagall in surprise. "Is your guardian coming?" she asked as she looked behind the girl as if she were hiding Snape somewhere.

"He isn't coming. At least, not now."

"Why did he send you here alone?"

"Severus needed to stay behind to fix something," she said as Harry looked up in surprise.

"You don't mean Severus Snape?" Harry suddenly asked and instantly realized how stupid that sounded. Who else could possibly be named Severus?

"Yes," she said hesitantly. "You know my guardian?" she asked perplexedly.

"I should have made introductions sooner. Mr. Potter, this is Cyrille Cromwell, Professor Snape's ward. Cyrille, this is Harry Potter."

"You're Harry Potter?" asked Cyrille in disbelief.

"I suppose Snape would have mentioned me," he said lightly even if he felt extremely nervous inside. He felt like his heart was going to jump out of his chest any moment. McGonagall, on the other hand, looked disapproving at Harry's casual way of addressing his ex-professor.

Ever since Harry had found out about Snape's survival, he had wanted to meet the man. However, he didn't have the courage to do so. After having seen his memories, he started seeing his professor in a new light; he admired him for his bravery and sacrifices. Still, he didn't think it wise to personally confront the man because of their existing animosity. In truth, he didn't know how to face the man who had made his entire childhood miserable yet at the same time secretly protected him at the expense of his own life. What was he to say when they only ever insulted each other whenever they had any interaction? He was certain that the only fruit of their meeting would be sheer awkwardness and he would rather not experience that. That was why he refused to go to the Headquarters with the Weasleys when Snape had visited. He made up an excuse about being busy with his house and Ron had happily jumped in since the redhead had no desire to meet Snape either.

"He told me what you did for him," said Cyrille, hoping to bridge the gap between the two men. They obviously didn't really hate each other. Not anymore, that is. She didn't see why they couldn't just be friends.

"He really told you that?" he asked in a more hopeful tone than he would have preferred.

"Really. He told me how you cleared his name and all. He told me everything about what happened to him throughout the war," she said honestly and Harry nodded. McGonagall interrupted.

"But what is so important that he had to send you here on your own?" asked the woman. Cyrille hesitated for a moment but Minerva seemed to understand this. She told Cyrille that Harry was someone she trusted and that she need not worry about her guardian's disapproval. Cyrille nodded at this and related the tale with as much detail as she could come up with. After listening to her tale, McGonagall was absolutely horrified.

"He isn't hurt, is he?" she asked worriedly.

"No, I wouldn't have left him otherwise."

"He is repairing the house as we speak?"

"Yeah, he said he didn't think it was safe for me to be there while he worked though, so he sent me here."

"Goodness, who would do this kind of thing? With Voldemort gone, you'd think we might have a little more peace now," said McGonagall and everyone fell silent for a while, each recalling a particularly unpleasant memory about the past. Harry suddenly broke the silence.

"He may be gone, but what about the other Death Eaters? If news of Snape's survival reached them then they'd want revenge," said Harry reasonably.

"I suppose that is a possibility, but they'd want to lie low for now, wouldn't they?" she asked.

"I don't think that Death Eaters really know what lying low means," said Harry with a hint of anger.

"But with the mass search to capture all of them, they won't be stupid enough to cause any trouble now, would they?"

"They're not rational thinkers. Maybe their need for revenge overpowers their fear of getting caught, enough for them to risk getting kissed by a Dementor."

"What's a Dementor?" asked Cyrille suddenly, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"They are nasty creatures you have no business knowing about," said McGonagall with a pointed look at Harry.

"They guard the wizarding prison called Azkaban." The headmistress glared at him as he said this. She thought the girl was too young to know about these things. Harry, however, thought otherwise and he continued. "They are creatures that literally suck the happiness out of you and leave you miserable once you're in their presence."

"Then to get kissed by a Dementor means that you get your happiness sucked out of you?" asked Cyrille feeling a little horrified. Harry noted that Cyrille was an inquisitive child.

"Really, there is no need for such a discussion at this moment," said McGonagall.

"She'll find out sooner or later anyway," argued Harry reasonably. "Besides, she wants to know. Don't you?" he asked Cyrille directly and the girl nodded. McGonagall folded her arms across her chest in disapproval but didn't comment on the matter any further.

"A Dementor's kiss is far worse than just sucking the happiness out of someone. Think of it as having your soul sucked out of you. You merely exist as an empty shell."

"That's horrible! Nobody deserves that," said Cyrille. "Wouldn't it be better to just get killed than have your soul sucked out?"

"That's why Azkaban is so horrible."

"Have you ever seen one before? A Dementor, I mean."

"Trust me, you wouldn't want to," said Harry darkly.

"I still think it's cruel, though. Who could be capable of letting such things happen? I mean to have your soul sucked out…" she shivered.

"Truly amazing. I leave her for five minutes and you're already teaching her about soul sucking?" asked Snape dryly, directing the question to Minerva. At that moment, Harry remained motionless enough to blend with the background. Cyrille rolled her eyes as she knew that the man was once again exaggerating. She had obviously been there for way more than five minutes.

"Severus, what are you doing here already?" asked Cyrille as she gave her guardian a once over. He didn't seem hurt, Cyrille observed. She sighed in relief.

"I was worried that you might have gotten lost on your way here," said Snape dryly.

"You think I'd get lost through the _Floo?_" asked Cyrille in disbelief.

"Happened to me before," Harry suddenly said and everyone turned to him. Snape seemed to only notice him now. His eyes widened momentarily but he recovered quickly.

"Potter," he said neutrally. This was the first time in many years that he hadn't said that name with disdain but the tension in the room was evident all the same as everyone became silent. "Only you could have done such a feat," he said without malice. There was a sudden shift in the atmosphere and everyone became visibly more relaxed now.

"I suppose everything does happen to me," said Harry in an awkward attempt at conversation.

"I appreciate this little reunion, but aren't you going to tell me what happened?" asked the headmistress impatiently.

"I thought I asked Miss Cromwell to brief you regarding the situation?"

"I meant, aren't you going to tell me about your findings!" said the woman exasperatedly. Snape was obviously enjoying this. Once upon a time, when Dumbledore was still alive, one of his hobbies was riling the woman up. The headmaster seemed to enjoy this and usually let him be. Today, he felt like tormenting the woman on purpose to get back at her for scaring the crap out of his ward by telling her about Dementors. Little did he know that it was actually one Harry Potter who brought the topic up.

"Why do you think I'm here, Minerva?" he asked.

"Really, Severus! Why must you always make things difficult? Just answer the question!"

"Gryffindors," muttered Severus as he rolled his eyes. "Obviously, nothing more was to be found. I wouldn't have come here otherwise. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to take my ward home," he added hastily.

"Absolutely not!" protested Minerva. "Do you think I'd just let you walk away now that you're finally here?"

"You can't keep me here, Minerva. It's a crime to kidnap people."

"Don't you think your colleagues deserve to meet you? You don't know how much they've been badgering me about your visit! Now that you're here, at least go and see them. Don't make me drag you down the halls!"

"Why don't you do that then," said Snape as he grabbed Cyrille's arm and led her into the fireplace.

"You think I won't?"

"Don't you dare!"

"Severus, calm down!" said Cyrille while she grabbed her guardian's sleeve.

"Stay out of this!" hissed Severus.

"Please, Severus. There's no need for any of this hostility," whispered Cyrille pleadingly. Snape glanced at his ward and saw the worry in her eyes. He instantly felt guilty.

"Make it quick," Snape finally said. The headmistress beamed at him while Harry continued to observe silently from the sidelines. He had never seen his professor act like this before and he found that he didn't hate this side of him at all.

"Cyrille, you haven't eaten breakfast yet, have you? I'll ask a house elf to bring you some food," said Minerva kindly.

"That won't be necessary," interrupted Snape. "Since you're making us stay anyway, I might as well let her explore a little. I shall take her down to the Great Hall," said the man as McGonagall and Harry exchanged a look. Without waiting for any reply, he dragged Cyrille out of the office and proceeded to the Great Hall leaving the two to stare at him blankly. Along the way, Cyrille was fascinated by everything she saw. The school was large; larger than anything she'd ever seen before. She also found its castle-like interior alluring. The different portraits greeted them as they passed and Cyrille stared in wonder.

They ended up in front of large oak double doors and Snape pushed them open. The room was empty except for one long table where the staff usually dined. The house tables weren't there because there weren't any students around yet. Snape took a seat at the center and let his ward sit beside him so that she could have a good view. Food suddenly appeared in front of them. There were eggs, bacon, and toast. A glass of pumpkin juice had also appeared in front of Cyrille while a cup of coffee surfaced near Snape.

"Hogwarts is beautiful," said Cyrille.

"It is," replied Snape. "This is the Great Hall and is where you will take all your meals with your housemates. This table is where the staff usually eat."

"This place is huge. I won't get lost here, will I?" asked Cyrille.

"You'll get used to it."

"I guess. How is the food appearing in front of us?"

"House elves."

"That's so awesome," remarked Cyrille as she took a bite into her eggs. "The food here is awesome too."

"I hope you're not saying that the food I cook is lousy," said Snape in an attempt to show his ward that he was fine now. It was also a subtle apology which Cyrille instantly recognized. She gave him a small knowing smile as she replied.

"Well, compared to this…" Snape shot her a glare and she grinned evilly at him.

"Just kidding, nothing beats your cooking."

"Of course. I'm the youngest Potions Master in history," he bragged.

"I thought you said Potions and cooking are entirely different?"

"They are. I was merely commenting on my superb skills."

"I really shouldn't flatter you, you know? It gets to your head," said Cyrille as she shook her head.

"Remind me to punish you next time for being impertinent."

"I'm not being impertinent. I was just stating my opinion," said Cyrille as she ate another piece of heavily buttered toast.

"All that butter is going to kill you," commented Snape with a disgusted look at his ward.

"At least my last meal was delicious," she replied nonchalantly.

"You are hopeless." The man shook his head as he finished his coffee. Cyrille had also finished her food. "If you are done, we should go find the headmistress and see what else she is concocting. The house elves will take care of these." He stood up and led his ward out of the Great Hall taking the same path as they did earlier. When they reached the headmistress' office, they found it empty.

"They went to the faculty room," a voice said. It was the portrait of Phineas Nigellus.

"I see," remarked Snape. He left and led the way to the faculty room with Cyrille trailing closely behind him.

As they reached the faculty room, Snape entered without making his presence known first. Once inside, he saw that all his colleagues as well as his favorite student Harry Potter were there. It was only around ten days until the start of term and the professors were already in school for their last minute preparations.

"Severus! We were just talking about you," said Minerva happily while the others all stared at him like they'd just seen a ghost.

"Severus! We're glad to have you back," said Flitwick, being the first to recover. Snape merely nodded as he didn't know how to reply to this.

"You will be teaching again, won't you?" asked Sprout.

"I…" Snape hesitated when he saw Minerva give him an encouraging nod. "I suppose I don't have a choice," he said and everyone felt slightly more relieved. Cyrille too felt happy about this. She couldn't bear spending a whole year without her guardian. Harry, though, stiffened when he heard this.

"Will you be alright teaching Potions, though?" asked McGonagall.

"Defense wasn't really my forte anyway," said Snape. "But if I'm handling Potions then who…" he asked as his eyes landed on Potter. He stared horrified at him as he mouthed the word "you" and turned to glare at Minerva for confirmation.

"Severus, meet the new Defense professor, Professor Potter," said the headmistress with a smirk that could rival Snape's.

* * *

A/N: I guess this one's a pretty long chapter. Review please? :)


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